Save by being his Daughter
by FelesMagica
Summary: Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in a with Snape, who tells him something that will change his life forever.
1. Demonstrating Perfectionism

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

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1. Demonstrating Perfectionism:

The Death Eaters attacked them.

It had been a shock for all of them. In the middle of the night a loud signal had woken them all up from their peaceful sleep. During the welcoming feast Headmaster Snape had told them that in the case of acute and utmost danger this signal would alert them. So in case they heard this sound, they were to leave their classrooms, common rooms, dormitories or whatever room they were currently in and gather themselves in the Great Hall. There they would receive more exact tasks, depending on the situation and danger.

Some had laughed about this measure, seeing as they thought it to be useless. Others however were happy about the safety system the school was provided with. There was after all several known or suspected Death Eaters teaching at the moment: the Alecto brothers were teaching Dark Arts and Defence Against the Dark Arts while Snape had even been made headmaster. If those three thought it prudent to use this signal system, then it probably was.

It had been strange returning to Hogwarts, knowing full well that Dumbledore, their symbol of hope and success had died, murdered by some of the Death Eaters who were now teaching at Hogwarts. With him their hope had died, every possibility for them to win the war and come out of this horrendous situation alive had vanished. No one expected them now to be victorious, now that Dumbledore was dead. It had been their back step to reality, a rather harsh one that was it.

Sadly the more people realized they were in a tricky situation with the Death Eaters looming and roaming everywhere, with Dumbledore dead but Voldemort alive and kicking, a lot of people suddenly looked at Harry differently. Now that there was nothing more to hope for many decided Harry to be the one to save them all. They didn't know how nor did they even want to think about it. All that mattered was that Harry had faced him five times and each time had he come out alive. He was the one to save them. He had to be.

He just had to.

Stumbling out of his bed and rashly pulling over his school robes, Harry could see his friends already leaving the dormitory. At the beginning of the year they had agreed on, should this case of emergency really happen, they would wait for each other, wake the others up and help them should they need something. But now that they had this exact case of emergency suddenly no one seemed to be able to remember this agreement anymore. All they could obviously think about was rescuing their own skin and waiting for a friend could only hinder them.

A strong curse escaped Harry's lips when suddenly his world had gone black for mere seconds. Due to not seeing where he was going to and not knowing what was happening, Harry had hit his foot at Ron's bedpost rather painfully. It seemed to happen more often and regularly, Harry suddenly realized with dread. He would once in a while suddenly collapse, just breaking down, without any signal to alert neither him nor an explanation as to why it had happened. He would just collapse and then wake up minutes later.

Now that he had managed to leave the dormitory and stumble out of the common room, Harry could see that he was not the only or even the last one to head for the Great Hall. Hordes of small students, some of them had to be first years they were so small, were looking around widely, horror struck wide open eyes scanning the area for any potential danger while running towards their supposed to be safe destination. It didn't ease Harry's worries at all. They were in danger, the longer they stayed outside the safe walls of the Great Hall the more dangerous.

But soon Harry realized he didn't have to fear the other students' safety, he rather should worry about his own. While the other students may be late, they still were able to run and that rather quickly. Harry on the other hand, had grave difficulties with stumbling forward. Every now and then his vision would blur, as if he had forgotten to take his glasses with him. His heart was beating painfully in his chest and sometimes he would suddenly have difficulties with breathing. It wasn't normal; something was happening to him, something was making him feel this bad.

The only question was what?

From far away Harry could hear the distinct sounds of a battle. People were shouting, curses were spoken, things were crashing and breaking and some people were screaming in obvious pain and distress. With a faint feeling Harry closed his eyes and rested against the ice cold brick stone wall. His head hurt and his vision was spinning, not even resting his heated forehead against the wall would lighten it. He was feeling weak; like something had rolled over him and an invisible string was constricting his lungs and heart. He was ill, very ill and there was nothing he could do against it. He had to fight and come out alive of this.

Gathering all his remaining strength, Harry pushed himself from the wall and stumbled further forward. Just as he opened his eyes, he could the see the flash of poisonous green light breaking through the darkness. The green would haunt him in his dreams. Feeling his heart sink and an enormous feeling of dread and fear develop in his hearth, Harry tried to walk faster. He had to save them. Remus was there, as was Tonks, Molly, Arthur, Bill, Charley and Moody. A group of full trained Aurors was stationed somewhere on the castle grounds, only waiting for the Death Eaters to show themselves. It was good to know, it gave him a secure feeling. They would be able to protect the students while he couldn't.

But the Order and Aurors would never use the killing curse.

It was something Harry didn't want to think about. Reaching around the last corner, Harry's hearth swelled in relief. He could see the doors of the Great Hall, students and teachers were running around, the later shouting orders to the fearfully waiting students. He could see some of the older students follow the teachers, preparing obviously for the fight. With a proud feeling he realized Hermione, Ron and Ginny were among them. They would never just cover and wait for all to end. No, they would always take an active role in such a situation.

A fiery redhead girl was standing next to a redheaded boy and a brown haired young woman. All were wearing stern and grave expression, slight worry creeping over the females' faces while the male was trying to hide his discomfort and fear. In the background Harry could see the teachers preparing the castle walls and the doors so most of the spells and curses would be blocked. A light frown appeared on his sweaty face. Nearly all of them were present, only three of them missing. He didn't think it possible, but with a sinking feeling Harry suddenly realized what their absence meant.

They were traitors.

The actual Hogwarts headmaster and two of the teachers' bodies were missing. If they weren't here, where all the others were gathered, then there was only one other possibility for them to be. They were with Voldemort. The greasy haired, pale faced and dark eyed Potions Master, the black haired and brown eyed crazy looking woman with a this feral grin and her brother with the same facial features only some more scars gracing his body, the Alecto siblings, were currently kissing their lord's feet. It was disgusting and revolting.

Suddenly a loud, booming voice made him nearly jump.

"So, that's it. Everything is ready. The walls and the doors are guarded; there won't be a possibility for them to enter. All students who wish to remain here in safety go further inside the hall. I will soon guard and close the doors so they will open, once everything is over and there is no more danger. All students who are in their last year and wish to fight, please step out of the hall and gather around me. I won't try to hinder you. But remember, once outside, there is no way to get into the safe halls again. Your decision is definite."

A small group of students stepped out of the hall and gathered around the professor. Harry's heart was jumping with joy; most of them were from the former the DA. He had trained them personally. It made him proud to see his students confident and strong enough to face such dangers. But at the same time an incredible fear overtook him. Suddenly he wished for them to remain inside the Great Hall. Yes, he had trained and prepared them. But what, if it hadn't been enough? What, if they got hurt because of his lack of teaching abilities, what, if someone even got killed? It would be too much for him to take.

When Professor McGonagall's gaze met his, her eyes grew softer, but concerned. She could the fine layers of sweat covering his fragile body, he was trembling and sometimes his eyes would spin a little. He looked like Death on his feet, as if the next soft wind blow would break him. He was weak, no, he was ill, and she could see it. She had seen it all the time before but never had the thought crossed her mind to send him to Poppy. She wondered why. But now it was too late. Now, while being attacked, Harry would have to work. It was his task to vanquish the darkness. She couldn't take pity on him now and allow him to just rest like all those others. No, Harry had to fight.

It was his task to fulfil.

"Listen closely. We will go out there as a group and stay near the doors. The Death Eaters won't be able to enter. We will guard the castle entrances with our very lives. Potter and the Aurors will try to take them out as good as possible. That is why we stay behind, we will guard their backs. No spell or curse shall hit them from behind. This is our task. The others will try to stop them. This way, nothing can go wrong. We will be victorious, they won't get the school."

While the students cheered and tried in vain to mask their growing fear and dread, Harry idly wondered when he had declared he would be one of those suicidal people to try and fight with the Death Eaters directly. He couldn't remember ever having volunteered to do so, nor had he ever been asked if he would be willing to. It seemed people just suspected or knew he would do it and this angered him a lot. Who were they to decide whether he wanted to sacrifice his life or not? It just wasn't fair!

Through his anger filled vision and his angrily pounding heart, Harry realized Professor McGonagall had ended her pep talk and was now leading the group of students and teachers towards the doors leading to the castle grounds. Still shaking, though this time due to rage and not weakness, Harry followed them. It would be hard, he reminded himself, he had to be careful, take exact knowledge of his surroundings, otherwise with Death Eaters and perhaps even Voldemort running wild out there he would be as good as dead.

They reached the castle doors within what seemed to be seconds. With pounding hearths and fearful clutched and gripped wands in their hands, the students stared at the wooden material and tried to prepare themselves for what was to come. Some had wide open eyes, others were biting their lips nervously, some were shaking like leaves in a full blown storm and others again had lips firmly pressed together it looked like they had none at all. It was their way, their special and personal way to deal with this enormous stress.

Not looking back the doors were suddenly thrown open. In an instant, the students prepared themselves, wands raised ready to attack and head lightly dodged. Not waiting until fear and rational thinking get the better of them, the students suddenly started to run, leaving the castle with loud and animalistic battle screams. Harry, a bit surprised by the obvious feral battle instincts braced himself and followed them. He was to protect them after all; it wouldn't do him any good to stay hidden in the castle.

What he saw shocked him.

There were people fighting everywhere. Figures in black were throwing dark curses and vicious spells at brightly clad ones, electing screams of pain and horror from their victims. Their black, hooded cloaks were masking their genders and identities perfectly; they looked alike, no real difference visible. Their silver skulk masks shining brightly in the pale moonlight. It wasn't full moon, but nevertheless one could see quite clearly without the use of any candles or other light. Red, green and bright orange light was shining through the darkness, creating a feeling of enormous uneasiness.

When Harry had realized it wasn't full moon, he had thanked all possible goods and fate with all his heart. At least he wouldn't have to worry about that. He knew Voldemort had a strong alliance with the werewolves. They were vowing to support him and do as he pleased, while Voldemort let them roam the grounds and through the forest during full moon. The rate of infected victims had increased dramatically. The first few times during full moon they could be kept hidden and guarded, but during the first year after their infection, one full moon night they would suddenly disappear, leaving behind divested parents, siblings, family and friends. It was said they left to bring no further shame upon their families. Or that was what the Ministry and the families kept saying. Harry didn't believe this. He had another theory.

The infected were collected by their alphas to be trained and socialized.

Taking a quick glance to figure out the situation, Harry suddenly had to grab the wall for support as his sight began to blur again. Until now he had been able to walk just fine due the huge amounts of adrenalin pumping through his veins. Now, facing the danger and realizing how bad their situation really was, reality struck him like lightning. The adrenalin vanished, leaving him behind weak and powerless. If he wasn't careful he wouldn't need a Death Eater to take him out. He would even manage it without one.

"Harry! What are you doing?! The fight is over there, near the forest. We don't have the time to space out and look around the field for eternity. Do something! Fight them, Harry!"

Shaking, Harry looked around. Hermione and Ron were standing behind him, guarding the doors against every eventual intruder while taking them out with stunning spells. Their eyes were fixed on the enemy, brain working like mad to try to figure out what they would be doing next. Confusion spread through Harry. It wasn't them who had been screaming at him. It had been Ginny. The small but fiery redhead was standing beside them, throwing tickling curses and wobbly legs hexes at each person passing their way. Her eyes were burning and her aura was emitting a slight killer intent if that was even possible.

Gulping Harry decided he wouldn't want to come cross her path and therefore thought it prudent to start taking an active role in this battle. Raising his wand with a steal like grip, Harry slowly stumbled forward. He couldn't really decide where to go to, as small groups of four or five were fighting everywhere. Deciding to join the next best group, Harry turned slightly left and prepared himself. The fight was fierce, even the killing curses were flying, though thankfully no one was hit by one.

Suddenly his foot connected with something hard, nearly making Harry fall in the process. With fear in his eyes, Harry looked down to see what nearly had caused him to kiss the floor. What he saw made him gag. A young Auror had obviously been hit with something a vicious and older Death Eater must have fired. Blood was running out of his eyes, his mouth was open in a silent scream, his skin over and over marked with gashes and scars. His left leg was missing, blood soaking in the wet and muddy ground. He could see it lying several meters away.

Automatically his eyes searched for his chest. If the poor man was living, Harry thought about killing him himself. There was no possibility on earth that this man could be saved in any way. Finding it blood soaked, Harry realized with a jolt of relieve that is wasn't moving anymore, indicating the poor man was already dead. A small prayer was sent to whatever god watching and guarding this spectacle. Had the man been still alive, Harry wouldn't have known what to do. He might have just cried and break down.

He was about to straighten up again and take his place in the battle, when a loud explosion made him spin around in horror. There, at the entrance door to the castle interior, was burning a bright blue fire. The heat could be felt several meters away, making Harry's skin red and dry. He wanted to scream, he wanted to rage, to kill, to damage. He wanted to run to the fire and do what he could to stop it from burning. He wanted to throw himself into it.

But he didn't.

It was a magical fire. His friends, the one he had thought of as a family, were surrounded by the most dangerous and deadly fire. The problem wasn't the fire itself, its properties were. From outside it look like fire, but if one came near enough and tried to touch, he or she would realize it was hard like steal. One couldn't enter this fire; it was absolutely guarded, making it perfect for any kind of repelling or guarding aims.

The only problem was you couldn't leave it either.

Tears started to run down Harry's pale cheeks. A thick and strong knot was forming in his throat, making it difficult for him to breath and to gulp. While he was standing there, looking at the bright blue fire, his friends were trapped inside it, with no way to escape. He wanted to help them extinguish it in any possible way. But he couldn't. The fire had another property. It would burn as long as something was there that it could feed off. His friends would die. There was no way for him to get them out of it alive. He knew it.

And probably they weren't even to die.

The spell was normally used to guard important and special things. It wasn't used in combats normally and if, not as a form of attack. It was to defend and keep safe, not to harm and kill. Someone must have used it to keep the entrance safe, to keep the Death Eaters from entering. Whoever it was must not have looked correctly, missing the black clad Hogwarts students and thinking it to be left alone. His friends were dying because someone had been in a hurry and had cast this spell to protect the other students without making sure nobody was standing there. His friends died this very moment uselessly.

His friends' deaths were useless. And this didn't help him at all.

With tears still streaming down his face and clouding his vision, sobs now wrecking his body and hate, anger and loathing burning brightly in his heart and soul, Harry stood up again - he hadn't realized he had fallen to the ground some time before - and turned around to the battles. His wand was shaking in his trembling hands, but he didn't care. All he could think about was that the one thing he had been fighting for had been taken from him this very instant. His friends and family were dead; there was nothing he could do for them.

He wouldn't even be able to bury them.

Far away, he heard someone laugh. He didn't know why and didn't think the person was laughing about him, his situation and his loss of family and friends. The person probably didn't even know about it yet. But the very thought that someone was happy enough to laugh, while he just lost his only friends and family at this very moment, was just too much for him. His fragile and several times broken heart just couldn't take any more pain.

With tears still in his eyes and hindering his vision, Harry more stumbled than walked through the battle field. His wand was raised in attack, but shaking so badly one might have feared he would lose it any moment. His mind was racing and yet at the same time it was absolutely blank. If someone were to attack him, Harry wouldn't know what to do. He had his wand and it was ready to attack, but he wouldn't know which curse, hex or spell to utter. He didn't know anything at the moment. He might die within the next second and even if he would, Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He had lost too much at the moment, he just didn't care anymore.

"Stupefy"

A bright, deep red flash of light suddenly came out of nowhere. Having no time to react and feeling too weak to care, the red light hit Harry right in the chest. At first nothing happened, then his bright green eyed fluttered close, his body became limp and finally the boy collapsed.

Harry would have hit the floor hard, as he was standing outside on a path down to the forest. He would have surely hurt himself by doing so but mere moments before his prone body hit the hard floor, a strong pair of hands grabbed his upper body and held him. With a sudden movement Harry was lifted from the floor and brought to a firm chest, one arm under his knees and one under the boy's neck, holding him closely and with a firm grip.

The tall figure, clad in a long, black cloak with a thick hood and a silver skull as a mask was holding Harry Potter, guarding him, as if he never wanted to let him go again. A pair of blue eyes looked around, scanning the area for all possible and impossible dangers. Next to him the Death Eaters and the Order members were fighting fiercely. The black cloaked figures were fighting elegantly, their movements were unexpected, their attacks full of wit and cunning.

"Oh my god! They've got Potter! Get them!"

The loud scream caused all activity to halt. With big, horror struck eyes the Order members were staring at the one Death Eater standing a little far away from the others. They couldn't believe what they were seeing. Their saviour, the one to save them all by vanquishing the Dark Lord, was lying limply in the arms of a filthy Death Eater. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open and his face sickly pale. A fine layer of sweat was covering his face. He looked like Death was knocking at his door.

The moment the Order members realized this, hell broke loose. Had they been fighting fiercely before, now they were fighting for their dear lives. If the Death Eaters got Harry everything would be lost. Stunning curses were thrown, curses which would make the victim's legs snap, glue them together, freeze him or hinder his escape in any way possible flying around, aimed to hit the black cloaked figure and the stunned boy in its arms.

Sadly they didn't reach their goal.

Elegantly the Death Eater evaded each and every flying curse. Turning right, turning left, jumping, running, stopping the black cloaked figure held the boy to his chest like he was an important and precious price. Every curse and spell that shot too near to the man carrying the boy was taken out by the other Death Eaters. It was well planned, well thought through and especially well carried out. It was a masterpiece of act, no one was able to break through them and their concentration. They had studied their moves and the way they realized them, it only could end as a success.

"Stop them! You have to stop them! At all costs!"

The shout was desperate, full of utmost horror and fear. The Order members tried to increase the number of their spells and their force. But it didn't work. The more spells and curses they uttered, the more they were taken out by the huge number of Death Eaters still roaming freely across the castle grounds. The one carrying the boy finally started to sprint, running over to where the Forbidden Forest began. Crossing an imaginary line, the Death Eater stopped suddenly, spun around and then, with a last dangerous glint in his eyes and a leering smirk on his face, the man vanished into the darkness of the night, taking the wizarding world's last hope with him.

"NO!"

As if the animalistic scream and the disappearance of the one Death Eater and their saviour had been a secret signal, the remaining Death Eaters started to run towards the spot the two had vanished before. Instead of throwing curses, they only dodged them. Death Eater by Death Eater arrived at the first trees of the forbidden forest. The last three Death Eaters took their departure together. Stopping at the border, the three turned around, took their hands, bowed mockingly to the devasted Order members before vanishing with a loud bang leaving behind nothing.

"No, you let them disappear! You let them take Harry with them! You failed, all of you failed!"

A sobbing, lonely figure appeared where the Death Eaters had kidnapped their only hope for a better future. The man shakingly took a deep breath, his eyes aimlessly roaming over the deep footprints in the long, wet grass. Now they were visible, but soon they would vanish, just like the boy in the evil Death Eater's arms. Tears streamed down his pale cheeks, only to be whipped away by trembling hands. As his sobs increased, the man couldn't take it anymore. Sinking down on his knees he banged his against the wet floor, allowing his feelings to roam freely.

They had lost their only hope for a better life. The Death Eaters together with Voldemort wouldn't let the boy come out of it alive. There would be no chance for the poor boy that had been in such a horrible state the last months to come out of it alive. They had failed. They had failed themselves, they had failed their world, they had failed Lily and James, who wanted him to be safe and worst of all, they had failed Harry.

By losing him.

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**A/N:** And, what do you think? Just leave behind your thoughts, wishes and constructive critisism in a small review and make my day!


	2. Showing Mercy

**Saved by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

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2. Showing Mercy:

Somewhere far away hidden in an area scarcely seen by men before, a man was sitting in his study, working through the information his minions had provided him with. It wasn't much though, and it wasn't what he expected it to be, causing his anger to spike. He had over fifty people working for him. How could it be that none of them was capable enough to do what he ordered them to? It was driving him mad. Even the damned Order were working better than his Death Eaters were. By Merlin, they were leaderless, seeing as Dumbledore had been killed nearly a year ago.

At least not all of their information had been fruitless and unimportant. The Lestrange brothers had been able to achieve a long thought to be lost book, he had been searching for many years ago. It was one of the rarest books, written by the master of darks arts himself, Donatien Alphonse Francois Marquis de Sade, the very founder of sadism. The book just as famous itself, though not many knew it even existed anymore. There was after all a little catch with it. Most people reading it would never be able to tell of its content. The rituals, curses and potions were just too cruel to do so. Many would lose their minds while reading it, only to stammer and stumble unintelligently afterwards.

Voldemort had not feared this book might make him lose his mind. No, he, who had done more horrible and horrendous things than others could even imagine, he who had made more horcruxes than all the others together, would not go crazy over a mere book. No, he had ordered his Death Eaters to search and obtain this book as it was the only one featuring detail descriptions of the horcruxes creating process and its consequences. It was the only book he really was in dear need of. He needed more information and he needed it dearly.

Finally with the book in his hands, Voldemort had sent all of his Death Eaters away. He wanted to be alone, not disturbed by anything trivial or unimportant. He wanted to concentrate on the book and the book alone. He didn't need any stuttering and stammering, incompetent idiots crawling to his feet. No, that would only disturb him.

What he read, shocked him deeply. He had had a bad feeling about this for some time, but to see and read that his suspicions and fears were justified. Over and over he read those important three passages, but they were not making more sense to him the more he read them. He had known something was wrong and had been for quite some time, but, honestly, he had never imagined it to be this. He just couldn't believe it.

Few hours later, had managed to get a hold onto his emotions and mind again. Still breathing slightly hard, Voldemort called for his Death Eaters. He had to investigate this situation further. Tasks were ordered, people sent to investigate, others to observe and other again to spy. He would not have much time anymore, he had already wasted irresponsibly much time. Snape, Malfoy Sr., Malfoy Jr. and Nott had been the ones to work most. They, after all, had the best connections and best opportunity use their influence.

Now, after several days of intense plotting today was the day they were pulling it through. His Death Eaters had been gone for over an hour now. It was time for them to return. An anxious feeling spread through Voldemort's chest. It was important they fulfil their task, very important indeed. If they failed now, Voldemort was sure some of them wouldn't live to see the next morning. He would torture them into insanity should they fail. And he would feel no remorse over it.

Several loud popping sounds broke him free of his dark and sadistic musing. Several black cloaked figures suddenly appeared in his study, their cloaks masking their identities and bodies, their silver mask hiding their faces. His Death Eaters stood tall and proud, like he had told them to do. Upon seeing him, they immediately fell to their knees, bowing deeply and never meeting his eyes. A dark and evil smirk plastered Voldemort's thin lips. Yes, having absolute power indeed was a great thing.

Letting his eyes roam freely they suddenly came to a halt on one of his Death Eaters kneeling in the background. The man had obviously some problems staying in his kneeling position as he was carrying a small bundle in his arms. Though the bundle may not be heavy, it seemed to be enough to cause him some difficulties. Sighing to himself, Voldemort went back into the middle of the room, straightened up himself and then addressed his minions in a firm and scratching voice.

"Stand up, Lucius and step forward."

The only sound echoing through the giant, dim hall was that of Malfoy Sr.'s robes ruffling while the man stood up. Once he had straightened up completely, Malfoy went forward through the silent lines of watching and kneeling Death Eaters, watching intently what the blond man was doing. As soon as Malfoy had reached the front row, only mere meters away from his Master, Lucius slowed down. Finally reaching his Master, Lucius stopped, his head bend, so he wouldn't look directly in his red glimmering eyes, holding tightly on the bundle in his arms, lifting it up a little, so he would be able to see him better.

"Show me the boy, Lucius."

Pale and thin spidery fingers carefully stroked the boy's cheeks. It was a sight to remember. Voldemort, the one who had had no problem with killing his father and torturing small children and pregnant woman, was carefully stroking the fragile boy's cheeks. He acted, as if he cared for nothing more than his safety, something that was definitely wrong and caused many Death Eaters to raise their eyebrows in confusion and narrow their eyes in suspicion. They had been told not to harm the boy, but kidnap him and bring him here. But only so the Dark Lord could torture him into insanity, wasn't it? The boy was his most feared and hated enemy after all.

"Leave, all expect for my Inner Circle. The others do what I told you to do. And don't disturb me for the next few days, except if it is urgent. Otherwise the consequences will be deadly. Now, leave!"

Without daring to contradict him, all those Death Eaters who didn't form part of the Inner Circle left the hall. Their eyes were suspicious, never leaving their Master and the small boy held by Lucius so dearly. Why was he holding him this way at all? Why didn't he just drop him to the ground and stomp on his too thin and weak body? It just didn't make sense. Their Master was about to destroy his last remaining enemy, the last one to hinder his everlasting victory over the light side. Why wasn't he demonstrating his greatness by killing him in front of their eyes?

Bellatrix, who was walking next to her husband and his brother, narrowed her eyes in suspicion. After the disaster in the Ministry Halls two years ago she had been removed from her Master's Inner Circle and placed between those common Death Eaters. She understood him; she had failed him dramatically after all. His wrath had been like a force from hell. There was nothing she could do to regain her old grace than redeem herself through her actions. From this day on she had fulfilled her task with perfection and glory, though her Lord still kept her waiting.

A flash of fury short shot through her eyes. She wasn't the only one who had failed him this fateful night, but she was the only one to be punished. Lucius, who had led this catastrophic mission, was still in her Master's good grace and was now officially acting as his right hand. Narcissa, her intelligent and beautiful sister, who never once moved a finger to participate in her Lord's plans, was standing next to her husband in the ranks of the Inner Circle. Not only her, but Draco, her dim-witted and weak nephew, who had failed to kill the Headmaster was standing beside them. Next to them was standing Snape, the one who had never provided them with useful information and who had kept spying for both sides. Those traitors were glorified by her Master's presence, whilst she, his only faithful remaining Death Eater, was send away like some disturbing buck.

It just wasn't fair.

A firm grip on her upper arm prevented her from doing something she would regret later. Stern looks from her husband made her shut her mouth again and follow him out of the room sullenly. She would prove her usefulness and be it the last thing she would be doing. It wasn't her place to stand outside the hall, together with the Lestrange brothers, the Greengrasses, Notts, Zabinis, Alectos and the represents of the magical creatures. She was so much better, so much more useful than them. Why couldn't her Lord just see it?

Inside the hall, Voldemort was sighing lightly.

"We are late, nearly too late. We can't afford to waste anymore time. Every passing hour endangers the success of this mission. And it is important we succeed here. All of you know this, so don't you disappoint me."

Straightening up, Voldemort closed his eyes to think. He knew his Death Eaters were still there, but none of them would dare to interrupt him. They feared him too much to do so after all. Three of them were still kneeling. Their knees must be hurting badly by now, the floor was cold and hard, but none of them moved an inch. They would never utter their discomfort or pain to him. Lucius was still standing in front of him, the precious boy firmly in his arms and closely held to his chest. He wouldn't dare question how long he had to stay this way. He was loyal and he was intelligent, he knew what was good for him and his family.

"Severus, you will be the boy's personal Healer. I expect you to keep him alive long enough to discuss all of this with him. I need his approval by this evening. Make sure you convince him, otherwise your punishment will be most severe."

Opening his eyes, Voldemort locked his gaze with Severus'. He knew the man disliked the child greatly, but he couldn't show consideration to all of his Death Eaters' wishes and needs. They were his, his minions, his to order and punish should they fail. He didn't care for the useless grudge Severus held against the boy. He had ordered him to keep the boy safe and keeping him safe he would. His Master had ordered him to, every disappointment would only send his Potions Master to an early grave and the pale man knew that.

"Bring him to the vacant room down the corridor at the end. The house-elves have already prepared everything for him and his arrival. A shelf full with potions and creams is already there. Should you need something else order the house-elves to provide you with it. Your task is to keep the boy alive and heal him as good as possible. I don't want you to fail me, understand? The boy is too important to just let him die."

His head still bent, Severus Snape rose from his kneeling position. With firm steps he approached his Master and his friend, only to take the still unconscious boy from his arms. The boy was light; he recognized with a feeling of utter surprise, he didn't seem to weigh anything at all. A slow look across his face and body structure proved Severus's suspicions. The boy was weak and absolutely ill. Keeping him alive for the next days and healing him would be an utter miracle and a demonstration of all his knowledge. Bowing lightly to his Master, Severus murmured a small "Yes, my Lord." and then vanished through the door behind him. His light footsteps could be heard fading away in the long and vacant corridors.

While the dark Lord was still pacing up and down the front part of his hall, Lucius had bend down again into his kneeling position. It wouldn't do him any good just remain there standing. Their Lord was stressed and very nervous. His plans were complex, yet perfect. The only problem was he would need the boy's approval to bring them to an end. But the boy didn't look like he was strong enough to survive this very evening. And there lay their problem. The Dark Lord's plan was depending on this boy's life. The very life Severus was currently trying to save. The very life the Dark Lord could do nothing to save it.

It was driving him mad.

"You all know I wanted this boy alive, something that disturbed quite a lot of you. You expect me to kill him, to torture him into insanity, to make his life a living hell. But nothing this way will happen. I did not send you to retreat with this boy alive, just to kill him here. He is to be kept safe, no harm shall befall him and I bestow you, my Inner Circle, with this task. Keep him safe. Should something happen to him, will be the last thing you ever have failed me."

When he stopped in the middle of the room, Voldemort turned around to look at them sternly.

"The boy will be kept safe. I won't let some stupid Death Eater of mine kill him just to prove his or her loyalty to me. I want him alive, not dead. If that was what I had had in mind I would have gone to Hogwarts myself and killed the boy there. He has no power I don't possess. Killing him would have been easy. No, he shall live. I want you to have a closer look at you sister, Narcissa. She has the feeling she has not done enough to redeem herself. Most likely will she think by killing the boy I would provide her with another Inner Circle place again. Stop her from doing this. I will hold you personally responsible should she succeed."

With a swift look over his Death Eaters, Voldemort saw the hints of confusion on the Malfoy heir's face. The young man was trying to figure out desperately, what he wanted them to do.

"The boy will not return to school. No, I wish not for him to come under the bad influence of the so called light side again. Dumbledore may be dead and from what I saw in your sister's mind and memories Narcissa, Bellatrix made sure his friends and closest family were, too. I did not wish for this to happen. Those children would have been of use for me. But now it has all been in vain. She went against a direct order and shall be punished for this. But Potter will not return to this school. No, Potter shall remain by my side."

A small gasp could be heard, followed immediately by a light snap of a closing jaw. The Malfoy heir was staring at him with wide eyes, fear and horror clearly visible in them. He may not have said anything, but his actions had been enough. His Master knew what he was thinking about his plan, something that was very dangerous to do. Looking shyly up from the floor, Draco was greeted with the most horrendous sight he had ever seen.

The Dark Lord's maniacally smirk.

"Yes, Draco, Potter will live here. Where else would he be safe? I know this must all be very confusing for you. Potter has to be kept safe, at all cost. He has something dear to me that only Potter can guard. Therefore he won't be killed. What he has and what this is, is of no concern to any of you. You need not know more than that. Should I one day have the feeling I can trust you with such information, I shall think about telling you. But not, let it be. And don't pester the boy about it. He knows and I know. And that shall be enough. Should I find out you went against this order, I will execute you the most horrendous and painful way possible."

A firm gaze at his youngest Inner Circle member made the young man squirm under his gaze in uneasiness.

"Draco, I want you to return to Hogwarts as soon as possible. No one should notice your absence. It would only hinder and complicate my plans. As Potter will start to live here, he will need what possessions he has at Slytherin Manor and not at Hogwarts. Go back to Hogwarts and then return as soon as you have gotten everything Potter owns. Make it look like someone raided his things. This way they will think some Death Eater of mine took revenge on him. How you get a hold of his things, is your problem. Just make sure no one sees you, understood?"

A quick nod answered his question. The boy's jaw line was set firmly, his brows knitted in thought. The boy was thinking how to fulfil his mission to his Master's approval. Good, he better learn that soon.

"Then go, Draco, and return as soon as you have got Potter's possessions."

Again the boy nodded to him before he stood up, bowed quickly in farewell and then apparated out of his hall. The first step of his plan was set into motion, now he would have to make the others work, too.

Turning around, Voldemort leveled his two remaining Death Eaters. Narcissa was a very intelligent woman, who tried with all her might to keep the family and their name clean. It was a good thing to have her in his ranks. The mind of a woman does after all work differently. With her help he had been able to archive a lot of things that masculine brute and power would alone not have been able to provide him with. That was, why she was in his ranks after all. She was useful to him.

Her husband was intelligent too, but more importantly he was cunning. He knew what he wanted and he would ever get it. No matter how difficult or impossible it may look to be. His position in the Ministry was a very valued one. With Lucius' influence, the actual Minister of Magic and most Head of Departments were nothing more than puppets in his hands. May it be blackmail or buying their morals. Lucius always succeeded in what he was doing. Hopefully he would do so this time, too.

"Lucius, go to the Ministry and collect all of Potter's papers. His birth certificates, his school reports, reports about his childhood and articles in the newspapers. Just everything that there is. I need them by tomorrow evening so don't take your time but hurry. It is important you come back with all of them."

A small silence etched between the three of them. Lucius had nodded his head in understanding, but still was remaining. There was something on his mind after all and that he wanted to know.

"My Lord, may I ask why you need all those papers for?"

It was a dangerous thing to do. No one ever questioned the Dark Lord, expect for those who had an undying death wish. But Lucius knew his Master. The Dark Lord didn't like his minions to questions him. But that didn't mean they were not allowed to show any interest in his plans. They were the ones to set them into motion after all and it was important for them to know what and why they were doing this. This way, they would try to fail less, knowing the importance of their doing.

"I want to know all that is about Potter. I wish to bind the boy to me. He shall soon become one of my most trusted followers. But I can only convince him to stay by my side when there is nothing the boy can hide from me. All of his wishes, desires, fears and history are important to me and this task. The more I know about him and pretend to understand his feelings regarding certain topics, the easier it will be for me to convince him I'm not as bad as Dumbledore and the light sight pointed me out to be."

For the first time the Dark Lord was showing emotions. Instead of his stoic calm face or the fearful sight of his angry features, the most feared wizard of their time was looking disgusted and revolted. It was a sight to behold. No one would believe them what they were seeing.

"By no means will I cuddle or hug this boy. He shall live here and be protected, but I will not act and be a companion to him. This is a task for one of the younger Death Eaters, preferably your son. They will introduce him into our world and customs. I will only be there should I have something to do for him. Nothing more. I will not be a parental figure to this boy, nor will I be his person of trust. Others will have to take this place. But I will know everything about him. This way he will trust me more. And this way I will be able to control and foretell his actions."

Still confused, Lucius briskly nodded his head. Why his Lord ever thought to have to act like the boy's parental figure was beneath him. But who was he to question his Master's thoughts and plans?

Nodding again, Lucius raised from his kneeling position. With a swift motion he vanished his Death Eater attire. It wouldn't do him any good to appear in the Ministry wearing this black, hooted cloak and the silver skulk mask. It would be like a special invitation to Azkaban. Not even his money could buy him out of this. Bowing lightly in farewell, Lucius turned around and was about to depart, when the stern and hissing voice of his Master called him back.

"Remember, Lucius, I need everything that is there about the boy. Everything. And find out as much about his history and his past as you can. I have the feeling something may not be as we all think it too. Don't disappoint me, Lucius."

With a loud cracking sound, Lucius disappeared. Now only Narcissa and Voldemort remained, the former still in her kneeling position, her black, hoodless cloak hiding most of her figure and her long, white-blond hair falling lightly into her face. The later was still standing in the middle of the room, his head titled and his eyes slightly narrowed. Minutes passed with none of them moving or speaking, until finally Voldemort sighed and directed his gaze at the Malfoy Mistress.

"Narcissa, I know you normally never participate in any of my actions and plans and I always accept it. But tonight I have to request your attendance in one of my plans. Potter will soon be very vulnerable. As he will remain here, there will be no one there for him to keep him stable and help him through it. As I have seen, his friends have been killed. This must weigh even more on his shoulders."

Closing his eyes in obvious annoyance, Voldemort continued.

"The boy will stay with me. As for why, how and how long I will tell you later. So the boy may have my presence, but I don't think it will be soothing for him. But the boy will be lonely and he may soon get depressed if no one is there to listen to him. And that is why I need your help, Narcissa."

His gaze became intense, though it never became hard or cruel. It wasn't his way to make pureblooded women suffer. No, they were too important to just waste away.

"Potter will need someone to confess his feelings and wishes to, someone he can trust and rely on, a female being to guard and lead him. He will need a mother in other words. I wish for you, Narcissa, to care for the boy, to be his mother in everything but blood. I know you have a son, Narcissa, and you care for him deeply. He never had to share your love with anyone and so he might react badly to it. But I still implore you to do your best and try to be there for him."

Narcissa was staring slightly at her Master. It was the strangest mission her Master had ever given her. It would be difficult, but not impossible. It might even do Draco some good to realize, his mother was not only living for him. He might even get more independent this way.

"I will do my best, my Lord."

A curt but satisfied nod was the only answer she received. Voldemort though still seemed to be unsatisfied. A little stressed the most feared wizard of their time paced the lightly dimmed room. Suddenly he turned around and stared at Narcissa.

"One more thing. Potter will get several rooms here. I don't have the time or the patience to arrange and decorate them myself. The house-elves won't do. They always do too much and would only stuff the room to an extent that the boy wouldn't be able to just breathe in it. Please arrange the boy's room, Narcissa. Don't make it too much, but just some rooms the boy will enjoy living in. It will probably be the only place he will enjoy being for the first time after all."

Again, Narcissa nodded. It really made sense. She just couldn't imagine her Master to decorate the boy's rooms himself. He was after all leading a war and preparing to take over the wizarding world. He had neither the time nor the patience to do such trivial things.

"Yes, my Lord, I shall arrange the boy's rooms."

Seeing herself as dismissed, Narcissa started to raise from her position on the floor. She bowed elegantly to her Lord and was about to turn and leave, when a small, but curt movement of her Master's hand caught her attention and called her to stay. Waiting for him to tell her what he wanted her to do, Narcissa stayed quiet.

"I know you already have a lot of things to care for. But there is one last thing I wish for you to take over. Keep an eye on your sister. I have the distinct feeling she will not react positive to the boy staying here. Though Potter will not stay here in his actual form, I suspect Bellatrix will see him as a threat. She might even try to kill him. I care not for her nor for her wellbeing, as she has been nothing but a thorn in my side for the last three years. But I care for the boy's wellbeing."

His gaze became maniacally for the first time since he was talking to her. The enormous fear that suddenly spread through Narcissa's body made her gulp lightly to loosen the pressure on her throat. Her Master would be very displeased should anything happen to the boy. And his wrath would be destroying.

"He shall not be harmed, Narcissa. I place his safety in Severus' and your family's hand. Should anything happen to him, I will hold the four of you responsible for it."

With a last dismissive motion of his hands, Voldemort send Narcissa away, so she could fulfil her tasks. With a long sigh, Voldemort sank down on his armchair. A silent hiss informed him of his familiar's arrival. Slowly Nagini curled herself around her Master's legs and chest until her head lay on his shoulder. Her dry tongue flicked against his cheeks, causing a sudden tickling to spread through his body. Another hiss escaped her mouth, causing the Dark Lord to chuckle lowly.

"Yes, Nagini, Potter is laying in a bed at the end of this corridor. And, no, Nagini, you shall not poison, not bite.

nor choke him. To make it short, you will not harm him in any way possible. The boy is mine to keep. He will

stay with me and nothing will change this. "

He stroked Nagini's head with slow motions. A strange and terrifying glint crept into his red eyes.

"The boy will be mine."

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**A/N:** I really hope you like it so far. The story is now starting to truely develop and I can't wait for to gues what other things might happen. As always, reviews, ideas for the plot and constructive critisism are most welcomed and always make my day. Thanks to all of you, who did add this story to their alert or favourite lsit and who took the time to leave a review!


	3. Revelations Of A Plan

**Saved by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

**beta-reader: **Thanks, frannienzbabe, for your wonderful work!

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3. Revelations of a plan:

A pair of glassy, bright green eyes sluggishly fluttered open. With slow movements, the boy turned his head around, only to stop immediately when his vision began to blur and his head started to throb so painfully it sent tears into his eyes and made him slowly, yet carefully drop his head back on the soft pillow underneath him. Whatever it was that was causing him so much pain, it seemed to be better and more intelligent to just leave it be and rest.

"Don't move, Potter. You're severely hurt and it won't get better by your foolish and rash behaviour."

A loud, painful moan emitted from Harry's mouth. It just couldn't be. He was hurt, he was weak, he was in pain and of all people to be there to help him through it or make it better had to be Snape. Snape, who would be delighted to see him in said state and who would have to be severely encouraged to help him at all. His lucky star had to have vanished some time ago; there was just no other explanation for all the bad things that were happening in his life. With a sort of delusional or more likely suicidal feeling welling up inside of him, Harry thought about visiting Professor Sinatra and asking her whether it was possible for a lucky star to be sucked into a super nova and disappear this way.

"Potter! Cease your infernal twitching at once! Didn't you listen to me? I said, you are gravely injured and being one of the few to possess some medical education, it was my work to keep you alive. So don't you dare ruin this now."

Feeling too weak to get angry of his Potions Master's unfair accusations, Harry decided it was time to open his eyes and face his surroundings. Slowly, as if he feared he might lose consciousness immediately if only he opened them too quickly, Harry opened his eyes. He couldn't suppress a painful groan, when the dimmed light of the candles hit his unprepared eyes. Blinking again, Harry looked around until his gaze fell on the only other person present in the room.

The Potions Master looked as ever, just like he had looked when the battle at Hogwarts' ground had broken off. His skin was extremely pale, his hair night black, lightly greasy and falling into his eyes. His dark eyes scanned him critically and sternly over his crooked nose. The only thing different were his clothes. Though still black, they weren't the ones the Potions Master wore at Hogwarts, but instead he was wearing the typical Death Eater attire. Realizing this, it sent several shivers of discomfort and slight fear down Harry's spine.

"Well, Potter, how do you feel?"

A hoarse and painful sounding laugh escaped from the boy's lips, causing him to cough. Well, at least he had asked. The Snape Harry remembered, would have just ignored it and acted like nothing was wrong and like he normally would have. Something must have changed, must have forced him to act more civil, well near being nice to him. This made Harry's inside crunch with fear. Whatever it had been that had caused Snape to change his behaviour towards him, must have been more powerful than Dumbledore as the old man had failed several times to bring Snape to change his actions and tones.

"I feel like shit, to be honest, Sir."

A small, but cruel smile crept over the Potions Master's pale features. Slowly the man stepped forward, acting so Harry was able to see his every movement and finally stopped beside his bed. Without saying anything Snape took his wand from the pocket of his robes, turned it between his fingers in indecision and then sharply waved it over the boy's body, causing him to flinch and then to groan in pain. Whatever he must have done and whatever it was the wand was showing him, it seemed to displease him greatly as the smile vanished only to be replaced by a stern and hard look.

"This I can see clearly, Potter. You shouldn't move. Your body and health, well what remains of it, aren't in any condition to be aggravated any further."

Thinking that nodding would only increase the pain and that speaking would only hurt his throat, Harry decided to remain silent and tell his Potions Master through his eyes that he was thinking along the same lines. Slowly his still slightly dizzy mind was starting to wake up fully. With a jolt of fear and suspicion, Harry watched his surroundings. He was in a nice, but small room. There were two doors, one at the other side of the room, the other to his right. To his left was a big window, curtains closed so he wasn't able to tell whether it was morning or evening. A wardrobe, a desk, a shelf filled with books, a chair and two armchairs next to a small table completed the furniture. All in all, it was a really nice room, Harry decided.

"Sir, where am I?"

The stern Potions Master must have expected this question as he only sighed and then, with a swift motion of his wand, conjured a nice armchair next to the bed Harry was lying in. With another sigh Snape let himself sink down on it, his hands resting on his legs and his wand firmly entwined between his fingers. He must be pondering what to tell him, Harry realized when he noticed the little faraway look on his teacher's face, and suddenly he grew restless. He wouldn't like, what Snape was going to tell him, he wouldn't like it at all.

"Potter, whatever I'm going to tell you, don't freak out and don't do anything stupid like trying to run away. It won't do you and me any good. Understood, Potter?"

The nearly black eyes locked themselves with the glassy, bright green ones. It was like Snape was looking into his soul, Harry thought. Not knowing what else to do, Harry nodded carefully his head, never breaking the eye contact. A few more moments Snape was prying into his mind before he finally decided to let it be. Breaking the eye contact he left Harry with a huge headache and slightly panting. Whatever Snape was going to tell, Harry wouldn't freak out or try to run away, he was just too weak to even try it.

"You are at Slytherin Manor, Potter. I don't know whether you remember this, but the Dark Lord attacked Hogwarts. A huge and fierce battle ensued between the Order and the Death Eaters. You, just like your friends, were fighting bravely, I have to admit. You even managed to curse and stun some of the lower Death Eaters. But before you could defend yourself and your friends anymore, a Death Eater stunned you. You were collected by one of us and brought away from the battle field. Just when the two you vanished, the rest of us disappeared away, too."

Looking paler than before, Harry's green eyes darted through the room motionlessly. He remembered, but he clearly wished he didn't.

"The Dark Lord told us to get you, to bring you to his Manor as uninjured and as healthy as possible. You see, Potter, not one curse or hex hit you. Yet you are in a terrible shape. When we arrived here, the Dark Lord ordered us to leave you alone, to let you rest in peace. Being one of the few to possess magical healing abilities, the Dark Lord declared me your personal Healer and told me to ensure your health at all costs. That is why you are here, Potter. The Dark Lord wishes for you to get better."

Huge, wide open, green eyes stared at Snape in disbelief and fear. The boy's cheeks had gotten even paler, having a now more than slightly sick tone to them. His thin and fragile form was shaking and trembling lightly, his hands clutching the covers to him firmly, as if this would help him out of this situation.

"No.", the boy whispered weakly. "No, this can't be. I won't have to stay here. The Order will come and get me, they will save me; it can't be any different."

Severus shook his head slightly in obvious pity. He had hoped Potter would just leave it be and accept it. But to be honest, how could he have even hoped for it? He should have known better.

"Potter, I hate to break the news to you, but the Order won't come for you. Since Dumbledore's death the Order hasn't had a leader. They run around headless and aimless, try to do what would be best for our world in their opinion, but they lack the experience and the knowledge to pull it through. Many Order members were injured during this battle, some even killed. No one saw you leaving and no one knows where to search for you. And even if they could, they wouldn't be able to organize a good working rescue plan. Face it, Potter, the Order won't be able to help you this time."

Severus started to hate himself for doing this to the boy. It was one thing to humiliate and embarrass him when Potter was able to speak back. But it was another thing to take all his hope away from him when it was the last thing to keep his sanity. But he had to do it, the Dark Lord had ordered to. It was his mission to do.

"No, my friends… My friends will come and search for me… They will, I know it."

Severus was just about to open his mouth and tell the boy that no child at the age of seventeen could probably break through the wards and security spells placed around the Manor, when a loud whimper prevented him from doing so. With slight horror, Severus had to watch as Potter suddenly burst into tears, heartbreaking sobs wracking his fragile body. His hands were clenched so firmly, his knuckles started to turn white.

"No-o, they wo-on't come. They are dead, all dead. Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Fred and George, they are all dead. Killed in the battle. They won't come for me; they will never be there for me again."

The sobbing was heartbreaking. Slowly the cover was soaked through with Harry's salty tears, but still there seemed to be no end to it. Cursing himself for bring up this topic, Severus hesitantly placed his hand on the boy's back and carefully started to rub small circles. He couldn't help himself, but he was happy the children were dead. No, not happy, that would be too much even for him. It was just with them being dead; he would be able to fulfil his mission more easily and therefore might live through this week without being cursed too much.

"I'm sorry Potter. To lose your friends is always hard. It wasn't the Dark Lords plan to kill them, no, certainly not. He wanted to spare them. His main reason for attacking Hogwarts was getting you and riling up the Order. He didn't plan for wizarding children to lose their lives. I'm sorry to have to say this, but your friends were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. There was no chance they would have been able to defend themselves. I'm really sorry, Potter, but there would have been nothing you could have done to save them."

The sobbing only increased. Not being able to digest all this information anymore, Harry snuggled himself deeper into the covers and the cushions. While Harry cried out his grief over his friends, Severus stayed at his bed, never stopping the circling motions on the boy's back. It was only too understandable he reacted this way. Nobody would be able to accept his friends' death, knowing that it didn't have to be, that it was unnecessary. Minutes flew by and slowly but surely the boy's sobbing would cease. After ten minutes the boy was finally able to breathe normally again, only occasionally a tear was running down his flushed cheeks.

"Potter, I have to ask you one question. Just one single question. But please answer with all your honesty. It's important you do so, understand? Okay. Potter, when did you start to feel so ill?"

A thoughtful look crossed the boy's teary features. His cheeks were still flushed, his eyes were red rimmed and swollen, and his lips open from where his teeth had bitten into them. The green orbs though were currently looking absent, as if the boy was trying really hard to remember. His head was tilted to the side, making his untamable hair fall lightly into his eyes. He looked so fragile, Severus suddenly realized, as if the softest wind blow could make him break.

"It started a while ago. While I was at my relatives' home. First I thought it was due to all the stress I suffered the last year, with Sirius' and Dumbledore's death, the Ministry declaring me crazy and the increasing attacks, I just thought it had become too much for me. And my relatives treating me like dirt didn't help at all. But when I returned to Hogwarts, nothing changed. I still felt weak; I still suffered from nightmares, panic attacks and sometimes would just collapse. My friends started to worry, they were thinking it had finally become too much for me and I broke. But that wasn't the reason for my state of health. I wanted to get better; I wanted to be able to play Quidditch again, to feel stronger. But it just wouldn't work."

An uncomfortable silence ensued between them. Severus had been listening intently when the boy had described how his state of health had worsened over the course of months. Why he hadn't consulted Pomfrey or hadn't talked with his Head of House about his problem was a secret in Severus' eyes. Thankfully he hadn't, otherwise his mission might have been difficult to fulfil.

"Sometimes", the boy's low and hollow voice broke him free from his thoughts. His eyes were cast onto his cover, though now he raised them and looked directly into Severus' eyes with his dead gaze. "Sometimes I think I will die. Is this right? Will I die soon?"

Severus sighed. Oh, how he hated to do such things. He wasn't meant to do something like this. Trying to give his voice a neutral tone, Severus answered the question.

"I will be honest to you, Potter. Yes, you will die soon, within the next few days, if we don't do something about this. I don't think you know what is happening to you, your mind and your body; therefore I shall explain it to you. It will be shocking and most horrible to you, therefore I wish for you to remain calm and collected. Every bit of stress placed on your system only aggravates your state of health and shortens your lifespan."

Seeing the boy nod in apprehension, Severus continued, thinking wisely about every word he chose.

"Nobody saw this coming, not even Dumbledore. Be assured, Potter, had he known, he would have told you. I will start at the beginning, as I don't know how much Dumbledore has explained to you. You two were searching for the locket, one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes in the cave, when the headmaster came back poisoned. Therefore I think you know what a horcrux is? Good. Now Dumbledore surely told you, the Dark Lord made several of them, six in total. What the headmaster didn't know was that the Dark Lord had not made six, but seven horcruxes. Though the seventh one wasn't intended to be one. The night the Dark Lord attacked your parents' home, killed your father and mother and tried to kill you, the killing curse bounced back to him, making him loose a piece of his soul in the process. This piece of soul, split up from the rest of his soul, was trying to get together again. As it was impossible for the Dark Lord's soul to go back , the piece of soul took the next best open and wounded soul it could find and rested there, thus forming a new horcrux in the process."

There was a deadly silence and a pair of fearful and horrific wide open, green eyes stared at him.

"Yes, Potter, the piece of soul rests with your soul. You're the seventh horcrux the Dark Lord made."

Severus thought it best to give the boy some time to digest all the information he had gained during the last few minutes. It wasn't everyday that someone came and told you, that not only was a piece of your worst enemy's soul resting inside your soul, but that you are going to die soon, too. To his surprise, the boy took it fairly well, much better than he had him thought to do. Only the deathly pale skin, his panicky wide eyes and the slight trembling of his hands were signs for his obvious distress.

"Now, Potter, this is where your problems starts. Nobody has ever heard before of a living horcrux and therefore don't know what to expect. The piece of soul itself wouldn't be a problem at all. Sure it might feel strange and you would have severe headaches due to your connection with the Dark Lord. It would be uncomfortable but it wouldn't be mortal. No, the problem is that the Dark Lord's piece of soul contained a big part of his magic and magical signature as he had been throwing a powerful curse at you mere moments before. This magic and magical signature resides now inside you."

Bringing his hand to his head, Severus whipped away a stubborn strand of his hair. Oh, this was going to be fun, he thought sarcastically.

"Now your magic is powerful, really powerful, light magic. It runs through your blood as it ran through your parents' and grandparents' blood before. The Dark Lord's magic however is powerful, too, but one of the most powerful dark magics to ever grace the planet. This magic is now starting to spread through your blood and body, mixing and contaminating your own magic, causing you great distress in the process. A body has a magical signature it can live with, your cells and genes accommodate so they can work with your magic. When your magic changes, like it does at the moment, your body is unable to work with it.""

He raised his eyes and directed his fierce gaze directly into the boy's eyes. It was important the boy understood what he was about to say, it was crucial for all of them.

"The dark Lord's magic is more powerful than your magic. He is older, his magic more fierce. Your magic will stand no chance. Your body is at the moment fighting this magic, only working due to the small amounts of your light magic running through your body. But soon it won't be enough and your body will shut down. You will die a horrific, most cruel and painful death, Potter. Know this, it won't be pleasant, you will wish for your death, but it won't come soon enough."

Severus really started to hate himself for all the pain and distress he was causing the boy. But he had no other choice, it had to be done.

"There is only one chance to prevent this, Potter. But it will have grave consequences and therefore you have to be absolutely willing to pull it through. Otherwise it will kill you."

The boy was at a loss, he could clearly see it. His hands were still shaking, his lips were trembling and again tears were running down his cheeks. He bit his lip quite forcefully, even drawing blood in the process, but he didn't realize. He seemed to realize nothing around him. The boy's far away look in his wide open eyes indicated his mind had nearly shut down to progress and rethink all the information. Preparing himself for a longer time of silence, Severus leaned back in his armchair and closed his eyes to relax a bit more.

"I will do it." The boy's harsh voice rasped in the silent room and nearly made Severus jump. "I-I will do it, whatever it is. I don't want to die. I want to live, live a life that is worth to live. No more fear, not more pain, no more betrayal and no more death. Please, Sir, promise me this life will be worth to live and I shall do everything required of me. I can't fight anymore. I don't want to fight anymore."

His voice had grown more desperate from word to word the boy had spoken and grudgingly Severus had to confess, he was impressed. The boy's life must have been horrible, if he wanted to go through all this only to live. It made him wonder whether he had misjudged the boy throughout all this years.

"Please, Sir, I can't do any of this anymore. I just want to live."

The boy was looking so fragile, yet at the same time so determined in what he had said, it sent shivers down the Potions Master's spine. Nodding his head in approval, Severus thanked the gods for what seemed to be the first time in his life everything was going according to his plan. He would fulfil his mission and please his Lord incredibly in doing so.

"Have you thought about the consequences, Potter? What would your family and friends say?"

He hadn't meant to ask this question but it was important to him to know. The boy would have to go through this, once he had started. There would be no turning back once he might have second thoughts. It just wouldn't do. Therefore it was better to let him rethink his decision now several times so he was sure he wanted to do this. That was why he had asked this question. He had expected the boy to grow silent, teary and lonely. He certainly hadn't expected him to laugh harshly.

"My friends and family are dead, Sir. My parents, Sirius, Hermione, Ginny, Ron, The twins and even Dumbledore have all been killed. They might be dead; Sir, but they would want me happy. It was what they have told be constantly during the last years. And they told me not to care for other people's opinions. And that is what I'm going to do. I don't care what the rest of the world might say about my decision. I can't fight anymore, I don't have the power and now I want to live. My friends and family would be happy, Sir, and they would support my decision, whatever it will be I have to do."

Severus nodded his head in approval, a small, nearly unnoticeable smile gracing his normally stoic and cold features. That was what he had wanted to hear. The boy was growing strong, leaving behind the expectations of the wizarding world, only listening to his inner desires and his families' and friends' wishes for his future. This way they would be able to work through it. The boy would be able to make it. Praise the gods, the Dark Lord would be so pleased.

"That's what I wanted to hear, Potter. Nothing more and nothing less. It pleases me to no ends, I can tell you that."

Severus sat up straight in his chair, coming back to business as usual. They would have to hurry up. The boy was dying; he could see it with every passing minute. If they didn't hurry up, everything might be too late. Looking directly into the boy's green eyes, Severus asked himself for the hundredth time why he had to be blessed with Lily's eyes. It made things always so difficult for him.

"Your only chance to go through this and come out alive of this mess is a blood adoption potion and a strong spell, vanishing all of your former genes, magical signature and DNA. You would be adopted by the Dark Lord. This potion would make you son and his heir in everything through blood, Potter."

Smiling sardonically at the slightly shell shocked boy, Severus continued.

"You understand now, why I told you there would be no turning back."

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**A/N: **Slowly the story develops its twists. Thanks to all of you who left a review and those, who put this story on alert and favourite mode. The very knowledge makes me so happy. As always, reviews, constructive criticism and ideas for my plot are very much welcomed! Leave a review and please make my day!


	4. Discussion Possibilities

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

**Beta-reader:** Thanks, franienzbabe, for your wonderful work you did on this story!

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4. Discussion possibilities:

"What!"

The loud exclamation was immediately followed by a painful sounding coughing fit. The boy lying in the bed was staring between the tears that appeared in his green eyes due to the pain caused by the coughing at the man standing in front of him. Severus was shaking his head in disapproval, watching the coughing and squirming boy with a stern look over his hooked nose. What he saw, was clearly not what he wished to see, as his lips turned into a thin line.

"Potter, use that brain of yours and get a grip of yourself. The more you act rash und foolish, the more you will damage your already poor state of health. I thought you wanted to live? So than act like you want to!"

The harsh and reproving voice of his teacher caused Harry to rethink his actions. Slowly the boy was able to control his breathing and stop the coughing. The tears, now due to the pain and not due to the grief, were starting to cease and his vision came back to him. Ever so carefully Harry tried to lean back into the cushions without causing another wave of hot searing pain to wash over his fragile and hurting body. Still breathing rather harshly, Harry managed to look up from the covers and direct his gaze at Snape.

"So, you want me to turn into Voldemort's son?"

His voice was badly laboured. While speaking, searing and itching pain in his lungs had caused him to close his eyes and grip his covers tightly. Well, why was he even surprised? He was at Slytherin Manor after all, Voldemort's rightful home. Snape had told him he had been kidnapped by the man's Death Eaters. And obviously the man had wanted him to regenerate and be safe, as Snape was his private magical Healer and was to only attend to his wishes and his needs. Thinking about with these thoughts in the back of your mind, the idea of becoming the Voldemort's son suddenly didn't seem so farfetched any more.

But that didn't mean he had to like it.

"Yes, Potter, you shall become the Dark Lord's son. And no, Potter, not only I wish for this happen, the Dark Lord wishes for it, too"

Harry wasn't convinced by this and he knew quite well that Snape knew this too, due to the way he was looking at him and groaning in annoyance when his gaze fell on Harry's face. But who could blame him? It was Voldemort they were talking about after all. What did they expect from him? First Snape tells him he was going to die within the next week. How very comforting. Then he tells him that Harry is a horcrux and the horcrux's dark magic was slowly taking over his light magic. Another ever-so-comforting thought. Then he tells him that there is only one way to live through all of this, by becoming Voldemort's son. Well, if this wasn't a shocker.

"How exactly are you imaging this to turn out? Voldemort hates me. He wishes to see me dead. He wishes to all of my friends dead and to see me absolutely miserable if he has to see me alive. How do you imagine me to become his son, Sir?"

Harry was desperate. He wanted to live, yes, he really wanted to. But not to live with a man who hated him, who would hurt, embarrass, torture him and do whatever his crazy mind came up with. He wanted a live that was worth to live. He wanted to have fun, to be normal, to finish school, start to work, go dating, find himself a nice girl, marry her, get babies and then live happily on. How was this going to happen if he was to be the son of Voldemort and live around him? The man would make his live a living hell.

Making up his mind, Harry's face steeled. If Voldemort was his only opinion and Snape didn't have some damn well good reasons to explain to him why living as the Dark Lord's son was so much better than being dead, then Harry would decline. Better dead and happy, than alive and miserable, he thought.

Severus meanwhile, who was watching the boy carefully and was quite able to read his emotions and understand his reasoning, was getting desperate, too.

"Potter, as I told you before, the Dark Lord was the one who organized your kidnapping. He was the one to give you this room and ordered me to keep you safe and in a state of health as good as possible. He knows you have a part of his soul in your soul. He knows this quite well and therefore wants to keep you safe. You are one of his horcruxes and being the man he is he has tried to keep them safe, all of them. I know this is not a very comforting thought, to be kept safe due to being a horcrux. But the Dark Lord would never do something to endanger your safety, your health or even your life. He was after all the one who came up with the idea of blood adopting you."

Well, Harry thought, he certainly did have a point. It didn't feel good at all to know Voldemort wasn't going to kill him, as he was still worrying about his horcruxes. At least this had a small good point. Voldemort would let him live and wouldn't dare torture him out of fear he might damage him beyond repair. This was at least something. He would be able to live, perhaps not too happily but Voldemort might give him enough room to actually be able to live happily.

"So Voldemort will actually let me live. But what am I to do? He won't let me out of his sight, but instead keep me inside this Manor. What can I do to not die because of boredom, Sir?"

Severus groaned in annoyance. The boy did seem to have a brain and obviously he was able to use it quite well. Sadly Potter must have started to do it when the time was pressing and Severus didn't wish for him to question each and every thing he said. But if those were the most pressing matters on Potter's mind, he would of course try to ease them. They were, after all, relatively easy to answer, probably even to the boy's satisfaction.

"Potter, the Dark Lord wants you to be his heir. He does not wish for you to be locked away in some cell and stay there rotting until you die. He wishes for you to complete your studies, especially charms, transfiguration, potions, dark arts, defence against dark arts, herbology, runes and arithmatic. He wishes you to excel in them. Then he wants you to find yourself a work, most probably something you can do while being inside this castle. Then he wants you to attend social gatherings, learn how to act, speak and walk in public and then, after all of this, he wishes for you to marry and get kids, so his line will exist further."

Severus could see the stunned look on the boy's face. Yes, Potter really didn't wish much for in his life. Finishing school, getting a job, marrying and having some kids. The most basic things of all. Yet they would make the boy happy and the Dark Lord was approving of providing him with those. He wanted his heir stay at his side, not to leave him and find happiness elsewhere. Severus, as a member of the Inner Circle and one of the most trusted Death Eaters knew for sure that the Dark Lord would do nearly everything, just to keep Harry by his side.

But Harry didn't need to know now, did he?

"Well, that does sound okay, I think."

Hearing the boy utter this sentence in absolutely unsureness caused Severus grin in joy at himself. Yes, he thought quite sardonically, it does sound okay, Potter. It really does. The Dark Lord has caught you and now that he has you, he will never let you get away from him. Potter wasn't a bad choice, Severus decided, not a bad choice at all. When the Dark Lord had told him he wished for an heir, but didn't want to delve into human actions such as procreating, Severus had been the one to look for a suitable boy to sway to their side and then let the Dark Lord blood adopt him. It had been a hell of a work and often had he been the one to suffer from his Lord's wrath, but now that he had Potter, everything would turn out perfectly.

"You should further know, Potter, that even if you had to stay inside this castle for all your life, I can assure you, it would be quite difficult to get bored. There is a huge library, a sea, a forest, several gardens, a Quidditch pitch, training rooms, an art room, a gym, dancing rooms and several more. The Dark Lord knows how to live, so believe me, Potter, when I tell you there are things much, much worse than being the Dark Lord's son and heir."

Potter, though grudgingly, seemed to come to the same conclusion. Severus could see how his face screwed up in concentration and thought. Several thoughts seemed to flash through his mind, only to be all solved or put aside by his consciousness. The boy had started to nibble his lip and his brows were furrowed in thought. Now his face was calm and his lips untouched. Severus knew without having to delve into the boy's mind that he was starting to imagine his life as the Dark Lord's son. A sly smirk crossed Severus features. He had Potter and he would not let him get away.

A sudden dry and hard laughter caused him to nearly jump out of his skin. Narrowing his eyes at the boy, who thankfully seemed to control laughter so he wouldn't suffer another coughing fit, Severus bore his eyes into Potter's.

"Why are you laughing, Potter?"

The boy still needed some more moments until he finally stopped laughing. His eyes, Severus noticed with a jolt of surprise, were bright and happy, nearly radiating happiness. His features were calm and his skin had taken over a slightly more human tone. If one didn't know the boy was lethally ill, one might have thought he was perfectly fine.

"I just tried to image Dumbledore's face. He might have died having a heart attack, knowing I won't kill Voldemort but instead let myself be adopted by him. It would have been so great to witness it."

This gave Severus an idea. He knew that the relationship between Potter and Dumbledore hadn't been the best when he had been killed. Dumbledore had withheld too much information from the boy to be able to trust him again. This could be his chance, their chance to show Potter that Dumbledore might have acted as the grandfatherly one, but in reality he was no better than the Dark Lord, even worse in Severus' eyes.

"You know that Dumbledore wasn't the one you thought him to be. You remember him the great, powerful, wise, trusting and understanding grandfatherly wizard he acted around you. You remember his twinkle in his eyes, the way he always offered you sweets and how he magically always appeared when he was needed. That is the Dumbledore you and most of the light side remember. But know this, Potter; every story has two ways to be told."

He looked sternly at Potter, who was in return watching him with great interest and something akin to fear seeping into his eyes.

"Dumbledore was indeed powerful, nearly as powerful as the Dark Lord is. And surely was Dumbledore a wise wizard, knowing more about magic and the wizarding world and population than most people did. And yet he expected you to face the Dark Lord. He was the powerful and wise one, but he wanted you to be the one to kill the darkest wizards of all centuries. Without any experience, without any special knowledge, without any additional tutoring. Excuse this, Potter, but not even you could have been dumb enough to believe you could have killed him. You never really stood a chance, especially after he has been reborn with your blood. So why did the powerful and wise wizard Dumbledore not do it himself?"

Severus paused slightly to be able to witness the boy's reaction and indeed, he must have hit a soft spot. Harry's eyes were thoughtful, his brows were furrowed and his hand was absently playing with the hem of the covers. It was good to see the boy had been thinking along the lines, too. He wasn't as dumb as he had thought him to be obviously.

"Because that was what Dumbledore is, Potter. Wise, powerful and calculating, a deadly mixture. Instead of thinking how he could prepare you best or how he could kill the Dark Lord himself, he thought it more prudent and easy to listen to this fraud of a seer tell him how you had the power the Dark Lord knew not and how you would be the one to kill him. Remember, Potter, divination is one of the most obscure branches of magic. Some seers really can see into the future, most of them can't. And that, what those few who can see are not bound to happen. It is a mere possibility. Yet Dumbledore choose to believe her. It was easier this way for him. He would let you face him and enjoy the rest of his life while he could. It was intelligent, cruel but intelligent."

The boy had still not uttered a single word, though Severus knew for sure he was listening to him intently. He saw it in his eyes, the way his head was titled to the side and how his hands started to clench around the covers. He wanted him to continue, to explain and Severus was going to do this.

"You know, Potter, the prophecy was actually right in one aspect. Neither of you can't survive whilst the other lives. But the prophesy means this in a totally different way than Dumbledore surely explained it to you. The prophecy refers to the horcrux residing inside of you. If you stay Harry Potter, than the prophecy will come true as you will die within the next week, while the Dark Lord will survive. If you will become the Dark Lord's son, than the prophecy will come true again, seeing as by a blood adoption you will become someone different. Harry Potter will vanish, an equivalent to die, while a new human being and the Dark Lord will live on. You see, either way the prophecy will be fulfilled."

Severus sighed and let his head rest against the armchair. It was difficult to tell someone about it. He had been stupid enough to believe Dumbledore, of course Potter had, too. He had just been such a cunning and manipulating bastard, who should have been in Slytherin rather than in Gryffindor. Thankfully he was dead now. It made everything easier.

"Dumbledore believed in the prophecy or rather he believed in it as long as there was reason to do so. Dumbledore would have been able to oppose and perhaps even kill the Dark Lord but he choose not to as he thought you would be able to do it. So why bring dirt upon his hands when he could easily let you do all the dirty jobs. And unfortunately you seemed to prove the prophecy correct. You were able to face the Lord five times and every time you came out alive. For Dumbledore it must have been clear that you would one day vanquish the Dark Lord. That was why he placed the fate of the wizarding world into your hands and didn't think about training you. In his eyes you must have been the one to rid the world of the evil solely with your wand and knowledge. Training you would be unnecessary."

Looking at the still quiet and thinking boy, Severus waited before he would play his last trump. This would finally break the boy's trust into the light side and especially Dumbledore. Though the man may be dead, his influence on the boy was still enormous. It was vital for them to break this trust so Potter would succumb to the dark side complete.

"You and your friends were sent on several suicide missions. No properly trained wizard would have been able to fulfil them completely and neither did you. Every time you came back though with great losses. Dumbledore would have been able to solve those problems, but he chose not to. Instead of helping you and your friends, he chose to stay behind and live a peaceful life. He placed his health and safety above that of you and all your friends. Dumbledore is no grandfather to you; he is a manipulating bastard, ordering his pawns and puppets around as he pleases. He is no better than the Dark Lord, no, Potter, he is even worse. With the Dark Lord you know what to expect."

A short nod told him the boy had understood. The way his eyes were fixed on the wall on the other side of the room. The way his jaw was clenched and his hands firmly gripping into the covers Severus knew the boy believed him. There was no way the boy could do any different after all he had said. It would need some time until the boy finally accepted it.

Severus prepared himself for a longer time of silence. The boy was not stupid; the way he had acted after he had been brought into this room had proved him to be quite intelligent and cunning. He would understand the consequences of the headmaster's actions. But at the same time the boy was a fiercely loyal and trusting Gryffindor. It would take a lot of time until his head would finally win over his heart.

"I will need some time to think this over, Sir. But, may I ask a question, Sir? What would be the consequences of the blood adoption?"

A small smile crossed Severus features. Potter was correct. It was best to leave the boy alone and let him make the decision on his own. He would make the right decision; Severus had made sure of it. Now it was to ease the boy's worries concerning the blood adoption. The sooner the boy made up his mind the better.

"Well, Potter, of course your appearance would change. Now your parents' genes make you who you are. With the blood adoption you would take over the genes of the Dark Lord and some minor aspects from other trusted female Death Eaters. If you would only take over the Dark Lord genes, you would be an exact replica of him and that wouldn't work out. Therefore the other genetic material. It helps to keep your body healthy and your mind sane. And no, Potter, you won't be bald, red eyed and have a snake tongue. Those are the results of the Dark Lord's various experiments concerning his live span and health. They will have no effect of the blood adoption. Therefore you will look like the Dark Lord before his transformation began."

That, Harry mused, would be no problem. He wasn't too fond of his looks at all. Yes, he had his mother's beautiful eyes. But that was it. Besides his emerald green eyes, there wasn't much he liked about his body. He was short, his hair was untameable, his knees were knobbly, he had to wear glasses, a lightning bolt scar was gracing his forehead and his face was that of a young boy, not that of a seventeen year old adolescence. So whatever he would look like after the blood adoption it could only be better than his actual appearance. After all had he been told that Voldemort had once been quite good looking and charming.

"It could even be that your curse mark would disappear. After all, your blood, magic and magical signature would disappear and therefore the connection with the Dark Lord would vanish, though the horcrux inside you would remain."

Leaning back in his chair, Severus was smirking lightly at the boy.

"Then of course you would have to change your name, well, more like the Dark Lord will change your name and decide on how to name you. You must know in pureblood families, and after your adoption you would be one, special names are a symbol of status. The name must be original, with some positive meaning and even more important it should not have been used before by another family. With your second given name it would be different. Normally they are the father's or mother's first given name. And you would go either by the name Slytherin or Riddle. The Dark Lord keeps both names; therefore it would be his decision to choose your surname, too."

A sad look appeared on the boy's face. Seeing it, Severus decided to make a pause and let the boy think through it. It wasn't everyday that you had to give up your parents' heritage, name and appearance to be able to live. It surely could be a painful process, especially if the bond and relationship to the parents was a deep and strong one. Now Potter's parents might not be alive, but he still loved them and his affectionate feelings towards them were rather strong.

The thought of giving up his parents name made Harry want to cry. He didn't care too much about his appearance, this may be true, but only because every time he met someone, he or she would tell him he looked like the exact replica of his father. At first this had made him proud. He didn't have the chance to get to know his parents so it had been a very comforting thought to know that he at least looked like his father. But with the years passing it had started to annoy him. People only saw him as James, the brave Gryffindor, super talented wizard, lady's man and prankster. But Harry was different. Sadly only a few people seemed to notice and when they did, they looked disappointed, as if expecting better of him.

That had been when Harry started to hate his appearance and his resemblance to his father. He wanted to be seen as Harry, be his own person, but with this appearance it would never work.

But with the name it was different. His parents had chosen it for him. They had decided upon when they had first seen him after his birth. It held a strong affectionate importance to Harry. It had been his parents' wish he be called this way. It was like proclaiming their love to him this way. While he was Harry, the memory of his parents would live on. On the other hand, with Voldemort's blood running through his veins there would be nothing left of his parents' memory. Furthermore it would be most strange and perhaps even dangerous if Voldemort's son went by the name of Harry Potter. No, Harry finally grudgingly decided, it was indeed better to change his name and let Voldemort choose it. After all, the man knew better than him how to create a fancy and fitting pureblood name.

Seeing the boy finally nod his grudging approval, Severus went to discuss the last point.

"Last of all your magic will change, too. Of course the Dark Lord's dark magic will run through your body. But this is not all. Your special abilities will accommodate to your new magic, too. Now you possess your father's talent for Quidditch and your mother's talent for Defence Against the Dark Arts. After the blood adoption this may be different. Personally I don't know in which subjects the Dark Lord excelled. He was a genius and therefore good in every subject. About his parents or rather relatives we don't know anything at all. Therefore it will be quite a surprise to all of us. And this is the reason, too, because the Dark Lord wishes for your education to start at the beginning. It will be easier for all of us, but especially you this way."

The boy stayed quiet, but Severus had expected nothing else of him. He would surely need some time to really understand what gaining new magic and magical signature meant, but sadly they didn't have the time to wait for Potter to figure it out. They would have to pull it through and hope that everything will turn out right. After all, once Potter was blood adopted he wouldn't be able to change back. It was a decision for life and Severus sincerely hoped that Potter knew this.

Looking back to the boy, Severus expected him to look shaken, undecided or even thoughtful. What he didn't expect him to was to sit there smiling, eyes closed in bliss and hands resting loosely on the covers. No, that was a little bit shocking to him to say at least. With a grudging feeling Severus had to admit that Potter had surprised him several times since his arrival at Slytherin Manor and each and every time in a positive way.

"You know, Sir, I'm nearly looking forward to being blood adopted. This way I will be able to start a new life. Perhaps my family will not be the nicest and probably Voldemort will never love me as a son nor will I ever really love him as a father, but at least I'm alive. And this time I will decide what to do with my life."

A light chuckle escaped the Potions Master's lips, causing Harry to look up at him in surprise. A sardonic glint appeared in the dark orbs, making Harry shiver slightly in fear.

"Well, Potter, if you wish for a new start so dearly, there is an even more radical way. And this way you will be truly able to start anew."

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**A/N: **Thanks to all of you who saw fit to leave a review to this story or add it to their alert or favourite lists. The positive responses make me so happy, you can't believe it. As always, reviews, comments, constructive criticism and ideas for my further plot line are very much welcomed. If you have questions concerning this story, just state them and I will do my best answering them.


	5. Making Decisions

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

**beta-reader:** Thanks, franienzbabe, for the wonderul work you did on this chapter!

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5. Making Decisions:

Harry knew he was staring and this was considered impolite, but honestly he couldn't help it. In front of him there was standing Snape, a strange, nearly insane glint in his eyes and a sardonic smirk on his lips. The very sight sent shivers of fear and dread down his spines. He looked like he had gone insane and was now about to do something stupid, acting only upon his instincts. Gulping loudly, Harry tried to force up a placating smile.

"What do you mean, Sir?"

The way Potter was forcing the words carefully out of his mouth, the way his eyes were watching him intently, as if he feared Severus might attack him every second and finally the way the boy was trying unnoticed to vanish into the sheets and the cushions made his heart race in happiness. Oh, how he had wished Potter would have acted this way during their lessons, it would have made his day. But now, everything was different. He needed Potter, needed to the boy to trust him so he could fulfil his mission.

Getting a grip on his emotions, Severus tried to look at the boy placating.

"It's very easy, Potter. There is another way for you start a new life, only more radical than the blood adoption. This way you will never be thought to be Harry Potter again. No one will dare to compare you two. The only problem is that this solution affords even more bravery and determination than the blood adoption. If you really decide to do this, then you will have to be absolutely sure. I won't do anything if I don't have the feeling you really know what your decision means and what the consequences will be."

Potter was still staring at him, urging him with his eyes to continue. It wouldn't do him any good if he hesitated any more. Therefore Severus decided to just drop the bomb.

"We could change your gender, Potter."

Absolute silence ensued between them. Potter, still lying in the bed, was staring at Severus with his mouth hanging open. The incredulity and the disbelief were clearly visible on his face, Slowly his mouth started to move though no sound escaped his lips. Severus thought he looked like a fish on the dry. Though in all honesty, Severus could understand the boy. Potter was the epitome of proud man. He liked girls, he loved to play Quidditch and he even loved the thought of being the one to aliment his family more than anything else. Now the thought of becoming a woman, being destined to be the one producing the family and stay at home to care for them must seem to him like the worst nightmare.

"What?!"

Well, at least the boy remembered his state of health and didn't use his full force and power to scream at him, though the yelp must have been bad enough. Looking sternly at the know panting and lightly coughing boy, Severus was thinking really hard about how he could convince Potter to approve of this idea. It was his absolute plan after all. Bringing it through would not only ensure the Death Eaters treat him with more respect - they would never lay a hand on one of their women, after all - but also ensure the Dark Lord would care for Potter better. Potter had to understand this, he just had to.

Sighing, Severus sat down again and pierced the boy with his gaze.

"Well, Potter, you would be a girl, no, a woman to be more concrete. This way you would become the Dark Lord's daughter. To the blood adoption potion I would give you a potion to vanish all of your y-chromosomes and replace them with the x-chromosomes given by your blood adoption. The potion itself will only take mere minutes to fulfil its work. From this moment on you would be a real woman, with everything that belongs to it. You will even be able to bear children should you ever feel the need to marry and create a family. It's not so bad, Potter, and after all, nobody would ever guess a woman to be Harry Potter."

Still gaping like a fish Potter was lying in the bed. Severus couldn't suppress the sigh wanting to escape his mouth. It wasn't like he was speaking Spanish anyway, so Potter must have understood what he had been telling him. It couldn't be that hard to understand and follow. And honestly, the boy had started it. He was after all the one to tell him he would be happy to be adopted by the Dark Lord and start his life anew. He must have been quite desperate to come to this conclusion. So why was he now acting as if Severus had gone crazy?

"No, okay, no. Why? Why should I do this?"

Yes, this was the most important question running through Harry's troubled mind. Why on earth should he be willing to become a girl?! The answer better be good.

"Well, Potter, being a girl would have various advantages in your case. The first of all I have already told you. Nobody would suspect a woman to be Harry Potter. You know the light sight won't just accept your disappearance. No, they will search everywhere for you. It would be most suspicious if Harry Potter disappeared and at the same time the Dark Lord's son was to appear at the scene. They will suspect you to be it and they will try and kidnap you, so you can fulfil your task, whether you want to or not. They won't care whether you are feeling empty and broken. They won't care as long as you keep on fighting. As long as you kill the Dark Lord."

The first reason made Harry thought. Snape was right. They would never stop trying to find him and if they did, everything would be like it had been before.

"Another reason would be you would be better protected being a girl. The Dark Lord will wish for you to stay inside the castle and to not participate in any kind of battle. Of course you will learn how to fight and how to defend yourself, no need to freak out, Potter, but you won't have to go on missions for him. As a male you would have to prove yourself worthy of the title the Dark Lord's son. As his daughter, you would be easily accepted."

A slightly faraway and wistful look crossed the Potions Master's features as he mindlessly stroked his left arm, causing Harry's interest to spike.

"Your role would be more of a representing role than an active role. You would have to be there at social gatherings and most probably at Death Eater Meetings, too. But your mere presence would be sufficient enough. Nobody would expect you to demonstrate your power. You wouldn't have to show your superiority by torturing muggles and muggleborns. It wouldn't be expected of a woman to do something so foul as this. It would be a peaceful life for you, Potter, especially as you would be spared taking over the dark mark."

This made Harry look up to Snape in surprise. About this he hadn't thought at all. Of course would Voldemort force him as his son to take the dark mark and become one of his Death Eaters. The very thought of having this awful tattoo gracing his skin sent shivers down his spine. This he didn't want at all, he would try to evade this at all costs. Well, at least he would be spared being a girl, why ever this was.

Suddenly a strange thought crossed Harry's mind. Crossing his arms moodily over his chest, Harry stared suspiciously at Snape.

"This sounds to me like you wanted to convince me to do this really hard. Why is this so, Sir, do you have an ultimate reason?"

Hissing in anger, Severus spun around and looked over his shoulder in agitation. Placing his finger on his lip the Potions Master was listening intently. When nothing was to be heard, he slowly turned around and looked at the boy in the bed with burning eyes. He was thinking really hard, Harry could tell by the way he was muttering soundlessly and how his brows were deeply furrowed. Visibly coming to a solution, Snape took the wand into his hand and stared at Harry.

"I should really not tell you, but if this is the only way you will believe this solution is only the best for you, then I will do it. But you have to swear an unbreakable oath that never in your whole life will you speak about what I will tell you to anyone else. It would be mine and your death and be sure of it, Potter, it would be the most horrendous death imaginable. Do you understand this?"

Feeling pressured, Harry curtly nodded his head. Snape was meanwhile staring into his eyes, looking for any hint Harry might not mean it. When he found nothing, Snape nodded, too and then motioned for Harry to grab his hand. Hesitatingly the boy complied. As soon as their hands touched, Snape uttered the spell, causing his wand to shine brightly and their hands to glow bright green. After the magic had been bound to the oath and the feelings returned to normal, Severus let go of the hand and stepped back.

Dusting off the visible dirt from his clothes, Severus took a seat on the end of Harry's bed. Sitting like this he would be able to watch the boy and the door at the same time. It wouldn't do for them to be suddenly interrupted by some stupid Death Eater minion. No, it wouldn't do at all.

"Well, Potter, like I already told you, I really shouldn't be telling you this. Not many people know about this, in fact it is only me and the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord knows I know. He spared my memory but he made absolutely clear at the same time should I ever tell someone about this, he would skin me alive. And honestly, Potter, I have no reason to not believe he would do it. Never speak nor think about this after I have told again, Potter. It's elemental you don't."

A curt nod was again the only answer he received. Sighing deeply, Severus tried to find the best way to explain this.

"The Dark Lord has not always been like he is now. Of course is he evil and he has been when he was still attending Hogwarts, so that is not what I mean. The Dark Lord is lonely. It's understandable at least, seeing he normally tortures and sometimes even kills his followers without reasons. But it has not always been like this. Years ago the Dark Lord was not lonely. He had a person he followed him everywhere and not in the negative way. He could trust this person and the person trusted him with its very life. Twenty-five years ago, Potter, the Dark Lord got married."

A surprised gasp escaped the boy's mouth, but Severus silenced him with a deathly stern glare. It was difficult to talk about this, so he didn't need the boy to interrupt him.

"Yes, Potter, the Dark Lord was married. It may be difficult to imagine, but trust me Potter, he was. His wife had been the beauty of Hogwarts, stealing many young men's hearts and so it was not a surprise to me when the Dark Lord started to get interested in her, too. He was the epitome of a handsome man after all and was always looking for women to grace his side. With her it had been no different. He had cornered her and after a little bit of persuasion he finally got her to go out with him. It was not different from any other woman he had dated before."

A wistful look crossed Snape's eyes. He suddenly looked sad, as if he was remembering better times. The very thought made Harry itchy and desperate for more.

"It might have started the same, but during their dates the Dark Lord suddenly realized something was different. He was looking forward to meet her and desperate to see her happy. After month of pondering he had finally found out he was falling in love with her. Not only her beauty, but also her with, her intelligence and her big heart. He started to court her during his seventh year and the day he had finished his school career, he married her."

Playing with the wand in his hands, Snape seemed to be far away.

"She was a Slytherin just like him. Therefore she didn't have any problems with the way he acted. He wanted power and to change the world. She had sworn him fidelity and she would stay by his side until he or she died. It was the perfect marriage, perhaps not romantic and cuddly like most girls wish for, but it was perfect in its own way. Two people had found each other and lived to complete the other. He had done everything to please her. She was the reason he had started to plan to wipe out the muggleborns and muggles anyway."

Seeing the shocked expression on the boy's face, Severus chuckled darkly.

"Yes, Potter, the Dark Lord's wife was the reason for this war. Sharina Salwick was the last descendant of a long line of purebloods. Her beauty was famous and caused many young men to do stupid things. In pureblooded families daughters are just as priced as sons. They may not carry on the family name, but they will be able to bear another generation of pureblooded children, therefore being just as important as the sons. In many muggle families it seemed to be different somehow. A bunch of muggleborn boys found themselves fantasizing about her. They followed her throughout the whole school and tried to get her to go out with them. But Sharina was proud and she wouldn't just take the first boy to cross her path, therefore always declining the offers. This made the boys angry, especially when the Dark Lord started dating her. They thought they were much more worthy than him and plotted to make her see it."

The dark expression on the man's face intensified and Harry idly wander what could have happened to cause the normally stoic man such distress.

"One evening they cornered her before she could reach the common room. The abducted her, silenced her and brought her to the boys' toilet. There they started to undress her. The poor girl was crying loudly but nobody seemed to hear her. Just when the first boy was about to rape her, the door to the toilets flung open and the boys got stunned. The Dark Lord had been waiting for her to return to the common room. When she didn't arrive, he started to worry and went to search for her. From far he could hear her scream, though he didn't know why. When he finally arrived at the toilets, the sight that greeted him shocked him. It took all of his willpower to not kill the boys immediately. Instead he stunned them, retrieved Sharina and then brought the traumatized girl back to the common room. The boys got suspended, but in the Dark Lord's eyes it was never enough. He blamed them for his girlfriend's distress and fear of darkness. He had always harboured dislike to the muggleborns and muggle. But this event had turned the dislike to hate."

The dark expression lighted. Lying in the bed, Harry was shell-shocked. Dumbledore must have known, he was a teacher at Hogwarts at this time, but he never thought about telling this story to Harry. It didn't justify Voldemort's actions, but in Harry's opinion it made him understand them better.

"To rid the world of all muggles and muggleborns was the Dark Lord's ultimate wedding present. Sharina thought it not necessary, but she was touched he would do this for her to make her feel better and therefore accepted it. In the Dark Lord's imagined world things such as rape would never occur. Pureblood families value their principles and purity too much to even only attempt it. Though the Death Eaters kill and torture, never have they touched a woman in an inappropriate way. The Dark Lord would kill them for trying."

A strange, warm feeling suddenly spread through Harry's body and with a jolt of surprise the boy found out what it was: reassurance. Perhaps living with Voldemort as a girl wouldn't be too bad after all. At least no one would dare to touch him or even rape him. That was good to know at least.

"The two of them were not only married. After three years of marriage I was called one night to visit them. The Dark Lord was on etch, his wife was feeling miserable. Threatening to kill me, should I fail, he told me to make her feel better. Minutes later I told both of them the surprising news. Sharina was pregnant and expecting their first child."

Again this wistful smile appeared. Vowing to himself he would one day find out the exact relationship between his Potions Master and Voldemort, Harry listened closely.

"It was one of the memorable evenings in my whole life. The Dark Lord was for the first time in his life speechless. Later he confessed to me he had thought of everything, poisoning, a spell, charm or curse gone wrong, a deathly illness, heck, even about his wife having been kidnapped and the person using polyjuice-potion suffering from the changing effects. The thought she could be pregnant had never crossed his line of thought. He was happy to say at least, proud and ecstatic. He forbid his wife to leave their rooms, called for the best healers and bodyguards and would only allow two most trusted elves to provide her with food and everything she needed. She was to be kept safe, nothing bad was to happen to her and their unborn child. Eight months passed this way until one night his daughter was born."

Smiling to himself Severus remembered the small photo in his secret hiding space in his chambers. A small, beautiful baby, with blue eyes, dark hair and pale skin smiling laughingly at him. Perhaps one day he would show it to Potter, but only if he behaved.

"Saleena was making her father proud. He kept her hidden, let her be trained by only the best tutors and let only me be the one to examine her. It had been the same with his wife, nobody but me knew the two were married. The other Death Eaters thought her to be his concubine, the one to act upon his wishes. They had no clue. In reality their relationship was much deeper. With his daughter everything got even more secretive and guarded. No one was to know she existed, to keep her safe. It worked out fine, Saleena grew up loved by her father and mother, she was tutored by the best people and she had everything she could wish for. It was perfect."

Harry was shocked when Snape's face suddenly morphed into one of utmost devastation. His eyes got teary and had he been alone, Harry was sure Snape would have started to cry.

"Five years after her birth there was an attack. We were at a Death Eater meeting when Aurors started to attack us. Chaos erupted, people got hurt, and some even died. The Dark Lord told us to leave, so the Death Eaters vanished. A loud bang made the walls shake. An Auror had dropped a bomb, the Mansion was about to collapse. Thinking his wife would be waiting outside for him with their daughter, the Dark Lord vanished, too, just before the Mansion finally collapsed. Having fulfilled their work the Aurors left and returned home as if nothing had happened."

Suddenly his voice sounded hateful and am angry glint appeared in Snape's eyes.

"Outside the Dark Lord was searching for his family, but they were nowhere to be found. With dread and fear he realized they must be somewhere between the ruins. He searched for them all night, getting more desperate by each passing minute. By dawn he had found them. His wife had been taking a bath when the attack happened, her daughter had been sleeping. She had tried to stumble out of the bath and rescue her, but sadly she wasn't fast enough. The building collapsed, burying both of them beneath it. While Sharina was lucky and survived, their daughter got killed by the huge masses of stone."

Trying to regain his steady breathing, Severus clenched his hands to stop the shaking. Harry hadn't even noticed they had started to tremble. He had been to entranced by Snape's story.

"The Dark Lord was understanding. He didn't blame her and was happy at least she had survived. Of course he was sad and angry, but in his opinion they would be able to live through and one day they might create another family. But Sharina felt guilty. For months she was lying in their bed, crying, not eating and not speaking. In her opinion it had been her fault. Hadn't she taken the bath, she would have been able to grab her and leave. Her depression got worse, there was nothing we could do for her. And finally, after several depression and agonizing months it became too much and she broke. She killed herself in the bathtub, leaving behind the Dark Lord and his lonely bleeding heart."

A long time there was silence. Harry was lying in his bed, digesting all that Snape had told him. It was sad, nobody deserved to lose two loved ones, your only family in such tragic ways and in such short time. Severus was meanwhile sitting on the bed, his mind filled with happy memories and devastating sad ones. It had been cruel years until the Dark Lord finally been over the loss of those two special women.

A soft sneeze broke his concentration. Blinking shortly, Severus suddenly remembered where he was. Potter was with him. He had to save him, it was his mission. Looking intently at the young man, Severus tried to convince him with his finale statement.

"You see, Potter, as his daughter you would be absolutely safe. After all, he would never harm his… daughter."

Harry thought there may still be a good reason for Voldemort to torture or kill him. He must have really loved his daughter and therefore might not take it too kindly to see her memory tarnished by him. He would be his daughter even in blood after the potions. But on the other hand, if Voldemort really cared so much for the pureblood costumes and upbringing, he would never hurt nor touch him inappropriately. It was against their traditions after all. So in any way, Harry would be safe, safer than he could ever be by being a boy.

He may not be loved. That was very clear to Harry. Voldemort didn't want to adopt him because he thought Harry needed a loving family and Voldemort felt so lonely. No, he did it, to keep him safe. But having a family that would tolerate and even protect you was far better in Harry's opinion than a family that hates you and wishes you the worst so you would finally let them live in peace. Voldemort would care for his education. He would be tutored, he would finish his schooling, he would start to work and he would learn how to act and speak in upper class gatherings. Voldemort would show him around and present him to the world. He wouldn't try to hide him like Harry's relatives had done it and if he did, it would be of totally different reasons.

To keep him safe.

Snape had even said he would be allowed to marry. Surely he wouldn't be absolutely free in his choice of partner, as Harry was sure he had to be a pureblood to be even considered by Voldemort, but he would be allowed to choose. Harry had always wanted to marry and create a family. Though in his wishes and imagination he had been the one to wear black at the wedding and to be the one to hold his wife's hand while she was bringing their child into the world.

It was a strange thought to suddenly be a woman. But sincerely Harry knew, it wouldn't change too much and he would be able to handle it. He knew he fancied girls, but this may well change while being in a girl's body. He didn't know whether it was possible, but he would later on ask Snape if there was a chance to not only change his gender but his preference, too. If yes, he would take it, if not, he knew it would be too hard either. His interest in girls had been minimal. He had never really felt aroused by the thought of one of them naked. Ginny he hadn't been able to imagine, it just wouldn't work. In his mind she always appeared censored. With Hermione it had worked better but the outcome had nearly made him feel nauseous. And with other girls he hadn't tried. So why not talk himself into fancying boys. It wasn't like he had had much experience loving a girl either.

Though Harry had to admit that the very thought of being the one to get speared instead of being the one to spear for the lack of a better word was just as bad as knowing that somehow he would be the one to deliver a half meter long and several kilos heavy baby to the world through tiny small split between his legs. The very thought was freaking him out. Sure as hell it would hurt enormously if just being pregnant made Voldemort think his wife was dying.

Perhaps there were other means to solve this. Surely Snape must have some potions and creams to make it better.

Hopefully.

Sighing Harry sat up in the bed, startling Snape in doing so. He had made up his mind. His face was void of emotions, he wouldn't give Snape the pleasure to see the turmoil of emotions causing his head to spin. He would have to hurry, otherwise he would never be able to do it.

"I can't believe I'm going to say this. I'm doing it, Sir. I want to be changed into a woman. I want to live."

A content and self-assured smile spread over the Potions Master's face. He must have realized how difficult this decision had been for Harry, as no word of teasing was leaving his lips and no sign of Snape possible enjoying the prospect of Harry changing gender was in his eyes. Instead he nodded and stood up in a fluent motion.

"You don't know how happy this decision makes me, Potter."

With another nod, Severus dusted of the dirt from his robes and was about to turn around, when a small voice made him halt in his actions. Potter, more than a little bit pale and slightly shaken from his own decision, was looking at him pleadingly. There must be something else on the boy's mind, Severus realized with annoyance. Sighing deeply, he motioned for Harry to speak.

"Please, just tell me how I will look like. The thought of becoming a girl is a scaring one. Not knowing what to expect is horrific. Please, I will be stuck in this form, I know it. Just tell me how I will look like so I know what to expect, Sir."

Again the sardonic smile spread over the Potions Master's features. He knew what to expect. After all, did he not only know how the Dark Lord looked before his transformation, Severus had also seen quite a number of old Slytherin and Riddle family photos. He knew what Potter would look like. But he wouldn't just tell him, the boy could, after all, still suffer a bit for all the stress and anger Severus had had with him. It was only too fair. And it wasn't like Potter would damn himself for making this decision. Severus was sure of that.

"You will look like a member of Slytherin family and like a descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself."

With that said, a smiling Severus left a terrified and desperate Potter in his bed. Oh, the next days would be joyful ones.

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**A/N: **So, that was the huge surprise and question to be answered. Some of you found out, but those who didn't had valid suggestions, too. I expecially liked the idea of de-aging Harry, but to be honest, de-aging-stories are a lot of work and furthermore I couldn't be bothered to come up with a great number of new persons. So that is why Harry will keep his age. Yup.

Thanks to all of you who found the time and inspiration to review this story or add it to their favourite or alert list. Thanks a lot! You don't know how happy this good feedback makes me. So, please, leave a review and make a poor writer's day. Constructive criticism or wishes and ideas for the further plot line are very much welcomened!


	6. Confessing Thoughtlessness

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

**Beta-reader: **Thanks a lot, franienzbabe, for your wonderful work you did on my story. I always appreciate your thoughts and ideas!

* * *

6. Confessing Thoughtlessness:

With a heavily pounding heart Severus arrived at his Master's study. It was already late and the possibility of being cursed for daring to disturb him at such an ungodly hour was running high. On the other hand he had gained the important information now and his Master had required for him to tell him as soon as the Potter boy had made up his mind. If he now chose to wait and tell him tomorrow morning, his Master would not take to kindly on this and curse him for letting him wait. There was no way out of this situation without the high possibility of getting cursed and tortured in the process.

But better do not it now than later. And furthermore, the Potter brat's time was running out. Should he decide to wait, it could easily be that the boy would not live to see his Master's reaction to his decision. And this would clearly cost Severus his life. He was, after all, the boy's personal healer and would therefore of course be solely held responsible for the wellbeing and lifespan the boy possessed.

With a long suffering sigh, Severus straightened his shoulders and braced himself for the pain and horror that soon may come. A last time he hesitated, before he brought his knuckle to the wooden door and tentatively knocked before bidding entrance.

"Enter!"

The voice was sharp and angry, immediately causing Severus to flinch besides his firm control over his troubling emotions. He bent his head lightly, before he opened the door, so he would not be able to look directly into his Master's eyes and then slowly entered the room.

The room was only scarcely lit. A handful of candles was lightly burning and spending light from their place at the walls and three candles were standing on his Master's desk. More than the first time Severus idly wondered to himself how his Master was able to work with such little light to see. He normally had to read through all of the reports the lower Death Eaters were sending to him and most of them didn't possess the neatest writing. So how was he even able to read and decipher them?

As soon as Severus had reached his place, he knelt down and bowed his head. It wouldn't do him any good to anger or even enrage his Master in the early state of his reports. Holding his head bowed, Severus could hear the well known sound of a dry skin slithering around the hard and cold stone floor. With a little bit more than dread Severus realized his Master's pet was also there and obviously bored, as she would normally sleep through such meetings. Her active state was nothing to calm his nerves. He had to be careful, otherwise Nagini would bite of strangle him a little just for fun.

It wouldn't be the first time for her to do so.

"My Lord, I came here to report about the Potter boy's progress and decision."

A little hum from his Master informed him of his gained attention. He could hear a quill being laid down and a pack of parchments being laid aside. Robes shuffled as his Master leaned back in his armchair, his hands resting neatly in his lap and his wand near his pocket. He looked well rested and calm, though Severus imagined he could feel the waves of tension rolling of his Master.

"Is that so, Severus? Then please enlighten me, what is Mr. Potter's decision?"

The voice was so sickly sweet and calm, Severus was immediately reminded of Umbridge before she had been run over by this herd of Hippogriffs. His Master wanted an answer, but it was a certain one. The calmness and the sweetness in his voice were strong indicators for this. Severus now knew with utmost certainty, that should his answer displease his Lord, it may well be he wasn't going to live until the sun was to rise again the next morning. The very thought made Severus tense and gulp nervously.

"Potter's state of health is a lot more worse than I first thought it to be. Without help he would not be able to live to see the next week. I first thought he would rather die than become your son through blood, seeing as his mentors', his family and his friends are all dead. But Potter surprised me, my Lord. He feels betrayed as he never had the possibility to just live and not serve. He feels he owes it to his family and friends to live further, to become happy for once in his life."

Severus drew a shaky breath. He knew he hadn't answered his Master's question yet. And his Master hated being left to wait. But it was important his Master understand Potter's reasoning, though he wouldn't come and curse the boy or him for making this decision.

He really would have to hurry if he didn't want to get hurt soon.

"After some consideration Potter has now agreed to take the blood adoption potion to become your son and heir, my Lord. He is prepared for everything. I ordered the house-elves to put a small amount of sleeping draught into his meal, so Potter will be well rested when the transformation begins. Tonight would be the best time. The potion still needs to simmer for five hours before it will be effective. Until than Potter will sleep and I will be able to prepare everything else necessary. By tomorrow morning the boy will be yours in everything through blood."

A small nod of agreement and contentment was the only response Severus got for the first part of his report. Looking up carefully from the floor, Severus could see how his Master was smiling lightly to himself, obviously very pleased with what Severus had told him so far.

"That is good to hear, Severus, very good. I'm only curious as to why Potter is suddenly so willing to leave all of his old life behind."

His Master's voice was still calm, but now a look of confusion had spread over his face. His brows were lightly furrowed and his eyes narrowed in thought. The fear in Severus heart intensified, especially as Nagini started to slither closer and flick her tongue teasingly at him. She could smell his fear, Severus reminded himself. Better calm down before she told her Master.

"Potter, it seems, has had enough. He feels his position and role in this war is nothing like he wanted them to be. He wishes for a fairly normal live, to be able to attend classes, get a job, marry and have children sometime in the future. The way the light side was trying to form him into a warrior and the way the dark side always chased after his life seemed to be too much for him. He is ready to leave all this behind him, to start anew. In fact, Potter wishes to be someone else, a new person, someone nobody would try to force to do something. He wishes to be normal."

A fine layer of sweat appeared on Severus' face. He could nearly feel how his hands started to wet and how his throat suddenly became very dry. What he now was going to tell his Master was nothing they had spoken of before. He might very well be killed for telling it.

"Potter doesn't want to be himself anymore. In fact, he wants to change his identity so no one will ever find out he is still living and wants him to fulfil his so called prophesied task. He wishes to change everything about him and his personality that can be changed. That is why he has accepted to take the blood adoption potion and becoming your heir so easily. He wishes nothing of his former and actual self to remain. He wants to have a complete and real new start, a whole new life."

A shuddering and shaking breath escaped Severus lips. He had to do it. He had to inform his Master of what he had Potter convinced to do. It was only for the best, the best for all of them. Sadly only he didn't know, whether his Master would appreciate his hard work.

"Potter wishes to become a whole new person. He wishes therefore to take the gender changing draught and become your daughter and heiress instead of your son and heir."

The shell shocked expression would have suited the Dark Lord's face. But as he was the Dark Lord and supposed ruler of the world, it wouldn't suit him to look too shocked. Though Severus was able to tell from his position on the floor that this information didn't leave his Master untouched. His eyes were slightly and unnaturally widened, darting through the dimmed room aimlessly. His hands on the other hand clenched and unclenched without motion.

"Well, this surely comes as quite a surprise to me. He really wishes to become a woman, Severus?"

Nodding his head curtly, Severus still had his eyes cast to the floor. His black hair was falling into his face and dark eyes, hiding them from his Master's view. He was sure his eyes would give him away, if his nervousness didn't give him away before. Furthermore he was stiff as a board and his hands and forehead were still sweaty. One wrong word, one single wrong tone or look would give him away and sign his death.

"Yes, my Lord. Potter wishes to become a woman this very evening."

The Dark Lord stayed silent, though a tornado of different emotions was running through his red eyes. There was shock, a lot of surprise, a little bit of suspicion, denial and even desperation. His Master was currently battling a futile battle, his mind against his heart. His mind was obviously telling him that with Potter becoming a woman, nothing could possibly go wrong anymore. Everything would turn out like he wanted it to. But his heart was telling him something else. It was questioning his resolve. He had sworn to himself he would treat the boy like his son. But would he be able to treat Potter as his daughter without breaking in the process or forming Potter into someone else?

"I understand, Severus. Is there something else I need to know?"

A small smile etched over Severus' face. His Master had accepted Potter's decision. It was the first step into the right direction. Suddenly Severus felt like a misplaced matchmaker. But instead of bringing together a pair of lovers, Severus tried to bring together a family. Potter needed stability and a family, the Dark Lord needed someone he could care for and cast all of his protectiveness upon. To have a father and to have a daughter would both do them really some good.

"One last thing, my Lord. You should take the last remaining hours to think about a suitable name. Potter wishes for you to baptise him."

Had it been possible, the Dark Lord's eyes would have widened even more. As they were already wide open, all his Master could do was nod his head dumbly. He seemed to need some time to rethink all the information Severus had given him. But naming the boy, well soon to be girl, seemed to have been the last straw on his Master's already fragile emotional state. He seemed to suffer a flashback, memories of his daughter and his wife replaying in his eyes. Severus wanted to help his Master, he deserved a bit of happiness in his life, but he feared he might just make everything worse.

"You may go now, Severus. Inform the Malfoys of the actual state of things and then return so we can set the changing process into motion. I shall be there at midnight."

With a final nod, Severus bid his Master farewell and left the room. He couldn't believe his luck. Not a single curse or one bit of torture had been afflicted upon him. Either his Master was discovering his softer human side, a thought that was absolutely ridiculous itself, or he was just too shocked to notice what was going on around him. Whatever it was, Severus was very thankful it had spared him pain and torture this evening.

Walking through the sheer endless corridors of Slytherin Manor, Severus arrived at his personal study and working place. The room was a little bit small, but it held everything he needed to work and live. A small bedroom, a library, a sitting room and a bathroom were connected with his study, making it possible to even live here during the holidays. The fireplace in his sitting room was lit. Some house-elf must have known he was about to use it. Taking a handful of flew powder out of the small box standing above the fireplace, Severus threw the powder into fire, waited until it turned poisonous green, called out his destination and then left with a swish of his robes.

When the spinning finally stopped, Severus stepped out of the fireplace and carefully dusted off his robes. The little house-elf that had appeared as soon as he had crossed the border belonging to the Malfoy Estate, was sent away with the task to bring his Master and Mistress.

While he was waiting for them to arrive a sudden wave of contentedness and relief swapped over him. He had fulfilled his lifelong promise to Lily. Shortly before her son had been born and she had been killed, she had visited him. He remembered the night only too well. It had been raining, thunders had echoed through the night and lightning had illuminated the dark sky. He was about to go to bed, when a knock at his front door made him open the door. Outside Lily had been standing, soaking wet through all the rain and shivering lightly, whether it was due to the coldness or her fear of what the future might bring, he didn't know.

He had let her enter, had offered her something warm to drink and dried her clothes. When they had been sitting in front of his fireplace, Lily had suddenly broken down. Her sobs had been heartbreaking, her hands clutched firmly over her largely swollen belly, as if she was trying to protect her unborn child. Not knowing what else to do, Severus had placed an arm around her shoulder, trying to ease her pain. Between sobs she had told him she feared she might not live to see her baby grow up. It hadn't been a vision or anything of that sort. Just the knowing suspicion something terrible would happen. She had made him promise her would protect her baby, always being around it so nobody would heard it. And Severus had promised it.

Now, seventeen years later, Severus had finally fulfilled his promise. Potter was about to change into a girl and be adopted by his Master. There would be no other place on earth he, well she, could be better protected. The Dark Lord had accepted her as his daughter, and seeing as he had once failed to protect his daughter, he would never let this happen again. Adding to this that Severus would still be there for her should she ever need him, a heavy stone had been lifted from his heart, making it easier for him to breathe. At least he wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.

"Ah, Severus, to what owe we the pleasure of having you here at such a late hour, my friend?"

Lucius and Narcissa had entered unnoticed while Severus had pondered the new developments of this situation. When he looked up, he couldn't help but smile a little at their appearance. Both were only wearing their night gowns and some light robes for the late evening. Narcissa's hair was undone, her make-up vanished, while Lucius had his hair bound, his cane missing. Both looked more than a little ruffled and displeased at his sudden and unannounced arrival.

Bowing lightly in greeting, Severus still tried to hide the small smile on his face.

"Good evening, Narcissa, Lucius. I'm sorry to disturb your peaceful evening at such a late hour, but the Dark Lord sends me. He wishes for me to inform you of the new developments and the state of things at the moment."

At the mention of the Dark Lord, both shortly stiffed, before their eyebrows rose fractionally. With a curt nod, Narcissa motioned for Severus to have a seat. A house-elf suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bringing a plate of small snacks, wine and tea for them. It put the plates and glasses in front of the two wizards and lone witch and then left after a small bow without another word. While Narcissa motioned for Severus to try some of the snacks, Lucius took a small sip of his wine.

"Has your visit something to do with our mission to retrieve Potter from Hogwarts, Severus?"

Severus, too, took a small sip of the delicious red wine and slowly nodded his head in affirmation. He leaned back in the comfortable leather armchair, crossed his legs and then placed his hands into his lap. Inwardly he was bracing himself for what might well come. When his Master had ordered him to inform the Malfoys' of the actual state of things, a sudden thought flashed through his mind. Gulping, he was imagining what his meddling might cause him, his Master, the Malfoys' and Potter some severe problems.

He hoped he was fearing in vain.

"You are correct, Lucius. It has to do with Potter. The Dark Lord wishes for you to know what he had planned for the boy and what will happen in the near future. Some weeks ago our Master found out that the Potter boy was bound to him by magic and a piece of his soul due to what happened nearly sixteen years ago. This night Potter was made to a living horcrux due to the repelled killing curse. For the last sixteen years the Dark Lord's magic and the boy's magic have been battling for dominance. During the last few months the Dark Lord's magic was gaining more and more power, causing the boy to die slowly and painfully."

A light gasp could be heard. Narcissa looked shell shocked despite her severe control over her facial features. Her hand, which had flown to her mouth immediately when Severus had mentioned the horcrux, was shaking badly.

"Oh my god. The poor boy. That was why he was fighting so weakly from what I heard from you, Lucius. He is dying already. The poor boy, he doesn't deserve to be punished in such a mean way. There is something we can do to help, Severus, isn't it? There is something that will rescue the boy from Death's door?"

She obviously hadn't intended for her voice to sound so shocked and for her face to show the turmoil of emotions she was fighting against. But Lucius and Severus knew that Narcissa wouldn't be able to fool herself in such a situation. She was a woman after all and a mother none the less. The thought of losing an innocent and helpless child must be pretty hard in her eyes.

"I can assure you, Narcissa, the boy will live. The Dark Lord found a way for him to survive. He wouldn't let the boy die now that he knows he is a horcrux and contains a piece of his soul. He did everything in his power to guarantee the boy's life, searching through each and every book he could get his hands on. In one of them he finally found the solution. It's a little bit tricky and may turn out not at all how we might expect it to, but it's the only solution we have."

Sighing lightly, Severus leaned further back in his chair and levelled his friends with an intense gaze.

"Potter will survive should his magic change. The Dark Lord offered for Potter to blood adopt him and change his magic due to the potion. Potter would be the Dark Lord's son and heir in everything through the blood they share. It is a radical way, but the only way we have to save him. And even stranger is that Potter agreed on this plan. At midnight tonight Potter will be given the potion, so he will become the Dark Lord's son. Everything is ready, we are only waiting for the potion to finish shimmering and for Potter to be rested enough."

Two pairs of big eyes stared at him incredibly. Whatever they had expected, this hadn't been it.

"Well, at least will the boy be safe and life. I didn't want to even imagine how it must be for him to feel two kinds of magic types battling against each other in his body. It must be a terrible feeling. And to know that you won't be able to survive should anything change. Your magic is one part of your personality, I couldn't even imagine changing it for another type. It wouldn't be mine. It wouldn't be me."

Lucius nodded his head solemnly while his wife's eyes were still cast upon her firmly knitted hands.

"The boy becoming our Lord's son might be hard and strange for him, but it will have several positive aspects for us. The Dark Lord will have more time and nerves to think about more important things and plan them through more exactly. We won't have to search for the boy anymore and we won't have to think about anymore abstruse ways to kill him or to retrieve him from his home. The prophecy will be nullified and the Dark Lord unstoppable. With the boy becoming his heir, there will be more stability for both of them. I think it might even be good for our Lord. The boy will help him distract his mind and perhaps his sanity might even come back with having a part of his soul near to him. After all Potter will be magically bound to our Master with this blood adoption."

They passed some minutes in silence, each person following their train of thoughts, thinking about what might come and what the future may bring. Severus, though, still felt quite nervous and was desperately thinking about how to even best approach the topic.

"Just out of curiosity: Are there some still active magically binding contracts between the Malfoy family and the Riddle family, Lucius?"

Lucius and Narcissa seemed to be quite surprised by his sudden change of topic, though they both pondered his question. In the end it was Lucius who answered, a smug and self-content smirk on his lips and a faint glint in his bluish eyes.

"Well, yes, Severus, there are some still active contracts between our family and the Dark Lord. My father was the one to solve it with our Lord. They wanted the families to mix, seeing as we are one of the last true remaining pureblooded families and our Lord is the one to fight for our very existence. By this contract, my father and the Dark Lord wanted to make sure those two families would always be magically bound together and always stay on the same side in a possible war."

Lucius' smugness soon turned into a quite proud expression. The sinking feeling in Severus' gut intensified and with a lot of dread the Potions Master imagined how to best drop the bomb without getting killed in the process by either the enraged Malfoy parents, his godson, the Dark Lord or even Potter him- argh herself.

"My father and the Dark Lord both signed a magically binding marriage contract. Should in one of the families be born a girl and in the other family be born a boy, the two children were to marry each other. The contract leaves some holes in it, though. Should both children don't get along at all, they would be freed from the contract and free to marry whoever they want. The Dark Lord thought it to be contra productive, should two souls be forced to live together even though they hate each other. In his mind, this way will never produce any heirs to the family and the marriage would be useless."

Narcissa sighed and suddenly had a rather dreamy look in her eyes. Mindlessly she stroked a strand of hair out of her face, while her eyes didn't seem to see anything at all as they were so clouded.

"I have to say, I still find it rather romantic and considering of the Dark Lord to think about the children's feelings. Only true love would force them to marry, but if it's true love, they would probably marry without having to be forced. The only force would be that both of them would have to endure a year of courting to find out whether they have feelings for each other. Either way no one would be harmed. I always wished for my son to find himself a nice girl he truly loved and cared for, to settle down and become a father. I could have well imagined the Dark Lord's daughter to be the one. Sadly this will never happen, seeing as the Dark Lord doesn't have any children."

Again Lucius nodded. Both Malfoy's seemed to be too much in thought to see the look of utter and pure horror crossing Severus' features.

"The contract was especially made so only a girl and boy would have to marry. But seeing as Potter is a male, there will be no courting between him and Draco. Narcissa and I won't have another child and even if we did, the contract would be null. My father and the Dark Lord agreed on that the age should not differ too much. If now we had a little girl, Potter would be eighteen years older. He could easily be the father of the child. The contract wouldn't work between them. You see, Severus, it would have been nice, but the contract will never be activated."

With a lightly flushed face, Severus was nervously knitting his hands in his lap. Sweat was slowly appearing on his forehead, his hands were getting wet and his left eye started to twitch lightly. Suddenly his lips and mouth felt extremely dry, causing Severus to try and wet it with some gulps and his tongue.

"Well, it could be that the contract may be activated, soon, Lucius."

Two pairs of big blue eyes stared at him in utter incredulity. Lucius had placed his wine glass rather harshly on the table, while Narcissa had nearly choked on her little snack she had been eating. Helping his lightly coughing wife, Lucius turned to Severus and stare at him with much more than disbelief and suspicion in his eyes.

"What did you say, Severus?"

Seeing the look of suspicion in his friend's eyes, Severus started to laugh. He could well imagine what the two of them would say to his actions and frankly, he could really understand them. But, well, what had been had had been done. He could not change it anymore, so they all would have to live with the consequences, how unpleasant they might be.

"You see, Lucius, I convinced Potter not only to take the blood adoption potion but a gender changing draught, too. By midnight tonight Potter will become the Dark Lord's daughter and heiress."

Dropping a bomb couldn't have caused a bigger uproar.

* * *

**A/N:** First of all, thanks to all of you who have found the time and inspiration to leave review, pm me or add my story on your alert or favourite list. Thanks, you don't know how happy this makes me.

As I got some reviews and several people pm-ing me, how sad they are about Harry not being paired together with Voldemort ( I will explain this again: Voldemort is Harry's father. It would be incest!) and I got several good ideas for a plot line, my mind betrayed my and started to work on those ideas. And now, some days later, I can finally pronounce my newest project:

Bowing to his wishes. It is what some of you wanted me to write. It's a Harry/Voldemort pairing story. Like in this story, Harry will be a girl. I just can't write slash to safe my life and for my plotline this gender change is immensely important. Furthermore it won't be a fluffy, happy, sappy romance, but full of angst, drama and violence. Just imagine an in character Voldemort. So watch out (but with lots of patience!) and tell me what you think!

To all of you who think my story is lacking actions, but too stuffed with boring and uniteresting explanations and dialogues: please, have patience. There will be better times soon and than actions shall happen.

As always I really appreciate thoughts, wishes and plot line ideas, just as much as constructive criticism. Please, leave a review and make a poor author's day!


	7. Solving Problems

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

Beta-reader: Thanks, franienzbabe. You did a wonderful work like always.

* * *

7. Solving Problems:

"You did what!"

Severus involuntarily gulped. It was the first time he had seen his normally ever calm and stoic friend angry and agitated. And by Merlin, it wasn't a pretty sight. His light blond hair was seemingly flying around due to an unknown force, his blue eyes had changed to a dangerous steel like blue and his fists were clenched. Once Severus had finished his sentence, Lucius had trying to launch himself at the Potions Master, only to be restrained by an equally angry and agitated Narcissa.

"You betrayed our family, Severus, my family. What in Merlin's name were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all? The consequences of your actions will be disastrous, beyond repair!"

Backing away slowly in suspicion, Severus raised his hands in an appeasing manner. It wasn't as bad as Lucius pointed it out to be. There were even several positive side effects of his actions. He would just have to make Lucius and Narcissa see and understand them. Somehow.

"Now, now Lucius. It is not as bad as you see it to be. Think about it. In a strange and twisted way it may even be the best thing possible happen to you and your family. If you play your cards right and everything turns out like I imagine it to, you will never regret for Potter to become a woman. Believe me, Lucius. I really had no other possibility. I'm bound to an oath to protect Lily's child the best I could. And the best protection for Potter will be being the Dark Lord's daughter."

Lucius only huffed angrily, but let himself be pulled to sit down on the couch next to his wife. He was still angry, Severus could see it quite easily and he was seriously thinking about hexing and torturing him. Severus would have to prevent this, he was to be fit to attend the changing and adopting ceremony tonight after all.

Not to imagine what his Lord would do if he arrived there late and bruised.

"And why does this help me, Severus, to know you were able to fulfil this thrice dammed oath to this dead woman? It is my son, who will suffer from your actions, my family! Think about it. My son, my only son, might have to marry Potter! And if not, he will at least have to go through an entire year of courting him, well her. I don't care for what you were thinking was best for you! This is awful!"

Severus could only sigh. There seemed to be nothing that would placate his agitated friend.

"Potter might the solution to all of your problems, Lucius. Draco is already seventeen years old. You would want him to marry before he turns twenty. This means you have less than three years to find a suitable wife for him. I know you have had in mind several young women, but none of them fulfilled your expectations. I know you only want the best for your son, for your family and it will be difficult to find the one woman to be it. But what would happen should Potter turn out to be the answer to all your silent prayers?"

Wordlessly Severus poured himself a cup of tea. He could see that he had caught his friends' attention, though quite grudgingly. But it was the first step. If only he played his cards right, he might come out of this tricky situation quite gloriously.

Frankly he wondered why his life had turned such a complicated turn.

"You remember last month, Lucius? The horrendous and painful ritual our Lord made some of his followers and him go through? It was a blood purifying ritual. All traces of Muggle blood and genes were vanished through it. The Dark Lord just as I and some other is now a pureblood. His genes and blood is free of everything dirtying it. He is everything he ever wanted to be. And Potter will be, too."

He wearily brought his hand to his temples and carefully started to massage them. The very thought of this ritual send shivers down his spine. It had been horrendous and for nothing of this world would Severus do it again.

"Potter will be blood adopted. Therefore he will receive a combination of the Dark Lord's and some female Death Eaters' blood, though the majority of the genes will be the Dark Lord's. Our Lord, just as all the other followers is now a pureblood, so Potter will be one, too. There will be nothing wrong with his genes and magical ability. In fact, he, well she, will be better suited for your son than most other pureblooded heiresses could ever be."

Severus leaned back in the chair, taking a small sip from his wineglass. Yes, Potter might be just the answer to all of their prayers. He remembered quite well how anxious Draco's parents had been when he had reached his seventeenth birthday. With a lot of expectation they had asked whether he would like to present them his girlfriend or not.

Imagine their horror when Draco told them he was single.

In had been quite the uproar in Malfoy Manor. Every Malfoy heir had married before he had reached his twentieth birthday. There were held high expectations to those who wished to become the new Malfoy Mistress. She had to be of a pureblooded family, of good and beautiful appearance, very educated, intelligent, pure in every imaginable way, she had to be modest, understanding when she was to keep quiet and when she was to speak up, she had to be able to dance, be able to sing or draw or play an instrument and so on.

They were understandable requests and expectations. The Malfoy name was very important in the wizarding world and it was to be kept this way. The marriage with the wrong woman could easily ruin this high held status. If she was unable to present and represent the family in the proper way, then how would other important families wish to attend business with the Malfoys. If she was a disgrace to their very family, how was she to be able to befriend other important women and converse with them?

Draco's parents had been highly worried when their son had told them there was no single female student at Hogwarts he wished to marry or even lay his hands on. He was quite uptight when it came to potential bride candidates. It was clear to everyone that most Malfoys would not marry due to love. Love would develop over the course of time spend together. No, Malfoys married because of their reputation.

And there was the key to the solution of all their problems.

"What candidates does Hogwarts offer you, Lucius? Pansy? Daphne? Astoria? Or even Millicent? They are all of pureblood families, though neither of them reaches your standards. Draco would not marry any of them. You remember when he told you of all the reasons he didn't want to. None of them holds the standard a typical Malfoy bride holds. Their education has been lax, they do not know any more, what it means to be considered a Mistress. They are only interested in amusing themselves, in gossip and in a expectacular sex-live. None of them is truly interested in your son or your family."

He sighed lightly, before he let his gaze wander over his friends.

"When Potter is turned into a woman, he will have to be educated from the beginning. He knows nothing about being a woman, nor of being a pureblooded woman expected to become a Mistress. The dark Lord's wants for her to become the prefect pureblooded daughter. Therefore he will only let the best teachers educate and teach her. I know for sure that the dark Lord wants you two, especially you, Narcissa, to be one of her teachers. This is the perfect opportunity for you to form your possible daughter-in-law to be. You will be able to create a masterpiece, Narcissa, the perfect wife for Draco."

The look in his friends eyes was an interesting one. Their greyish-blue eyes were filled with an internal struggle, anger and hurt battling fiercely against honest interest and growing intrigue. They were starting to rethink their possibilities and consider this course of actions, at least.

"Potter will not only be able to mend and form to your very wishes, Potter will be the possible spouse you can think of. Don't forget that Potter will become the dark Lord's daughter. Therefore whoever is going to be able to befriend her, will immediately rise in the our Lord's graces. He will be deciding who will be the one deserving of her attention and who will be the one to be honourable and respectable to be friends with her."

Thinking about it, Severus suddenly realised he wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. His Lord's would become very possessive and protective of Potter, once he had the body of a female. Especially should she look a lot like him. His daughter had been nearly a living replica of him. So would Potter inherit most of his genes, the dark Lord would transfer all of his feelings for his dead daughter to Potter.

"Now imagine what would happen, should Potter marry. the husband and his family would rise in the dark Lord's graces unimaginably. His family would be bound to him forever. They would enjoy his protection and the absolute favouritism over them. No one would be able to go against them, as doing something against their wishes would be literally considered doing something against the dark Lord's wishes. And this would be pure suicide."

Playing one of his trump cards, Severus calmly reached for his steaming cup of tea, placed it to his lips, took a small enjoyable sip and then leaned back into his armchair in a relaxing manner.

"Your family would stand above all the others. You would be near equal to the dark Lord."

He could see the small traces of greed seeping into his friends' eyes. Yes, power and influence were the two things that would ever bait a Malfoy. And to imagine the power and influence they would relish once their Lord had won this war, it was too good to be true. But even while they were daydreaming about this perfect future, a small trace of suspicion and fear still remained in their eyes.

"You do know that our Lord will not let any passing man marry his daughter. He will be very selective about who the happy chosen is going to be."

Her voice was weak, filled with an unknown fear. Now was one of the rare moments to experience Narcissa in her role as a mother. Her heart was filled with worry and fear for her family. The dream of Draco marrying their Lord's daughter and enjoy absolute protection this way, was a really nice one. But what would be, if Draco asked for Potter's hand in marriage and the dark Lord refused.

It would be most humiliating to say at least.

A lights snort and a dismissive role of eyes greeted her fearful question.

"You're right, Narcissa. The dark Lord will be most elective about who will be the lucky one to marry his daughter. But just as Potter will be the only and therefore the best choice for your son, Draco will be the only and therefore the best choice for our Lord's daughter. There is few to nearly none competition for your son."

Raising his hand in a mock demonstrative manner, Severus counted their possibilities.

"Well, we have the Zabinis' with Blaise as a potential spouse. The Zabinis are a dark family, but never have they supported the dark Lord in the way he wished them to. The always tried to keep a low profile, to fool the world into believing they are neutral and don't care for the war. Our Lord's let's them do as they please, but he isn't too pleased with them. Do you really imagine he would let his daughter marry the heir of a family that would never openly support him, I really don't think so."

Pausing shortly to let the information sink in, Severus raised his second finger.

"Then we have Theodor Nott. Nott is the heir of another dark family that borders very closely to be considered a neutral or even light family in the public's eyes. He is quiet and studies a lot. But that's it with his positive aspects. He lacks the normally expected wit and cunning every Slytherin should possess. He is a lame one, can't stick up for himself nor for anyone else. He never acts in public, never speaks until being asked for his opinion and lives up to his image of a weakling. I once heard the dark Lord ask one of his followers if they knew for sure that Nott was a boy as he sure wasn't acting like one. I don't think our Lord would marry his daughter off to someone who couldn't defend her against the smallest evils."

Two fingers were raised this time.

"Of course there are Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe. But honestly, do you expect me to even say something about them. They are the lowest in our Lord's graces. They lack wit, cunning, intelligence, fitness, appearance, power and influence. They can't offer anything that might change our Lord's opinion about them. He will under no circumstances let his daughter marry one of those two idiots. Hell, even I would say it's too much of a punishment if Potter in his natural form was to marry one of them."

Now several other fingers were raised.

"There are several other families that would be able to present suitable heirs. The only problem is they are all childless. Bellatrix and Rudolphus, both of true dark families and fierce supporters of our Lord, would have good chances, but they have no children. Rabastan has no children either, but even if he had some, our Lord wouldn't let his daughter marry any of them. He isn't married. And illegitimate children just wouldn't do for our Lord. Regulus died without being married and childless. Barty Crouch Jr the same."

Taking his hands down, Severus leaned back again. Inhaling relaxingly, the Potions Master looked at his friends sternly.

"I know, there are other Death Eaters and some of them are married and have heirs. But to be rather honest, I don't see them as any possible threats. They aren't influential enough, don't possess any power. But Draco on the other hand has everything our Lord would wish for in a husband. He is powerful, influential, he is protective of those he cares for, he acts in public and is willing to support him no matter what will happen. And then he has you. Your family was friends with our Lord from the very beginning. If he had someone like an adviser, it was your father, Lucius, and now you and I. And seeing as I have no heir, Draco would be the best choice."

He could see the understanding and comprehension dawn in their eyes. It was a possibility, a really good possibility, that Draco would be the one chosen to marry Potter. And seeing as there was already a marriage contract between their families, working on bringing Draco and Potter together.

And this marriage could save them all.

"What you said is true, Severus, but there is something else bothering me. It might be that once in his female body, Potter will be formable. But that isn't enough for me. I expect the highest grades of my son's bride to be. And not only that, but I expect good manners, interest in certain aspect of our life like politics, economy, visual arts, dancing, and much more. She is to be the Mistress of this family. And therefore, she has to excel in everything she might need some time."

His nervous gaze swept through the room restlessly. A light layer of sweat appeared on his forehead and his hands suddenly were clammy. Horrendous thoughts were crossing his lightly troubled mind, each sending more and more shivers down his spine.

"I don't want my family and my family's name tarnished, Severus. Potter is nothing more than an average student. He excels in nothing more than Defence against the Dark Arts, he took the easiest subject a Hogwarts student could take, Divination and care of Magical Creatures. Though I understand that Potter is more interested in magical creatures and animals than others, taking Divination is just plain unacceptable. Ancient Runes and Arithmancy would have opened him every door, but Divination won't do."

Lucius' hands were making restless movements through the air. The Malfoy Patriarch wished dearly to express his inner thoughts and struggles, but he didn't want to offend Severus in any way. And with what he was going to tell him, it very well might be.

"Potter has no feeling for keeping a conversation alive. He is interested in nothing more than spending time with his friends and planning how to spend his free time. He excels in Quidditch, but couldn't dance to save his live. How is this supposed to help us, Severus. A Malfoy Mistress that outdoes her husband in playing Quidditch but looks like she was wrestling on each official gathering they have to attend?"

The last sentence made Narcissa flinch. Oh, she had cursed thousands of times for all the evenings she had had to spend in the presence of some unimportant and uninteresting men, conversing nothing but hot air and starring openly at her figure. It was disgusting.

To imagine Potter in a female's body attending those gatherings was surely a hilarious sight, but would truly tarnish their family's reputation.

"And finally there are his looks. I really don't want to offend you, Severus, seeing as you shared quite a deep bond with the boy's mother and you still care more for her than for a normal friend, but I don't think Potter's appearance will match ours or even Draco's expectations. Should Potter keep his father's looks, his hair and his whole body frame will be than satisfactory. And should he keep his mother's appearance, it won't do either. I know most people considered her a true beauty, but to be honest, I never could understand it. Her face was plain, nothing extraordinary and worst of all her red hair. There has never been a red head in the family and Potter won't become the first!"

A small chuckle greeted Lucius' outburst. Surprised his friend had taken the offence on his long time crush so well, Lucius and Narcissa could do nothing more than wonder what caused his good mood and mirth.

"Well, thankfully there are different tastes and preferences. Otherwise we would have grave problems. No offence taken, Lucius, though I think there is this true grudge speaking out of you, especially if the worst offence to your taste is her red hair. But all that you listed, Lucius, are no problem at all."

Taking his wand into his hand, Severus started playing with it unconsciously, making Narcissa and Lucius keep their attention solely on him.

"As I told you before, Potter will take over the dark Lord's genes and therefore looks. There will be no red hair, Lucius, and certainly no problems with his body frame either. As for Potter's grades and his lack of interest in politics and anything of actual importance, those are problems that will easily be fixed. With the dark Lord's genes, Potter will change in more ways than just his appearance. His inborn abilities and talents will change, his interest will with due time. He will become the dark Lord's daughter in every kind of aspect. It will be most easy to bend her to your very wishes."

Smiling lightly at a strange and most hilarious thought crossed his mind, Severus still looked intently at his friends.

"And personally I can't imagine our Lord in a Quidditch match, now, can you?"

At first startled by the strange thought, both soon joined Severus in his chuckling. Yes, with the dark Lord's genes, abilities and talents, Potter was going to turn a fine woman. And with Narcissa's tutoring and help, Potter was even going to become a very suitable and respectable pureblooded heiress.

"But the last aspect might even be the best. This way, Draco will finally be able to overcome his Potter-obsession. Frankly spoken, I've had enough of him comparing everything to that boy and always complaining about him. The way he was going on and on about him, one might think he was in love with him. Something not to happen ever in life. I assure you, if Potter had been born a woman, Draco would have fallen for him on the first sight. But with Potter becoming a woman, Draco could still be obsessed with her without causing any problems. He would be able to pursue her and court her to his heart's desire. Nobody will say anything against Draco falling for the dark Lord's daughter."

Obviously more calmer, Lucius and Narcissa were quietly thinking about everything Severus had told them. He did have some major points there, they couldn't deny this. And the advantages this move would bring them, it was just too good to be true. Though a lot calmer, Lucius was still a little angry at how easily Severus had decided their son's future over their heads.

"You should have told us, Severus. The way you acted was not proper."

Rolling his eyes again, Severus waved his hand dismissingly.

"And what would this have helped you? The dark Lord wanted me to take care of Potter. It is my duty to keep him alive. Yes, I could have come to you first, but to what cost? I couldn't have known whether Potter would agree to become a woman instead of choosing to rather die. What would have been the point in arguing several hours with you about something that very well might never happen? Potter could have died during this time. He is currently only alive because I put him into a magical healing sleep. Had I come and asked for your consent first, I would not only have forsaken Potter's life, but mine, too. The dark Lord would have easily killed me for failing my duty!"

This thought stung. Yes, they had wanted Severus to ask for their consent first, but not to this price. Smiling guiltily at Severus, Narcissa nervously fidgeted in her chair.

"Should we tell Draco, I mean, he might as well be told he has to marry Potter should he develop feelings for him, no her. Should he find out later, he will react badly to it. He will feel we betrayed him in the worst way possible."

Lucius hummed but shook his head in a negative. His hands unconsciously tipped the small couch table before him. He knew what his wife played at, but it wouldn't work out this way.

"No, we won't tell him. Draco should meet the new Potter unbiased and without any bad intentions. If he meets Potter in his female form, without knowing of the marriage contract, those two might be able to become friends and perhaps even fall in love over the course of time. This way they can develop real feelings, instead of gaming away this possibility at the beginning. If you let them have their time, everything will turn out nicely, I can feel it."

Severus nodded his head in agreement, though he could still see the resentment Narcissa was trying to fight down. She just loved her son too much to hide something as important as that from him.

She really would have to work on herself to pull this through.

"You can come by and visit Potter in one week if you wish. Potter will need some time to accommodate to this change and will be severely weakened for the first few days. You could bring Draco with you or start with his training before, so Potter won't act too much of a fool when he meets Draco for the first time in his new body."

With a quick wave of his wand, Severus suddenly noticed he would be late if he didn't leave immediately. Rising from his seat in the chair, Severus walked over to the still lit fireplace. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Narcissa and Lucius following him.

"This sounds good to me, Severus. But you should ask our Lord first. I don't think he would be too pleased with you and us should we meet his daughter without his consent. And you should talk with him about something else, too. I may approve of your course of actions now, but I won't be the one to tell our Lord his daughter is the subject of a magically binding marriage contract. This honour is yours."

Though he was working really hard on himself, Severus wasn't able to suppress the flinch and the shudder torturing his body. This was going to be a painful meeting, Severus was sure of it. Their Lord may approve of this marriage, but he would still be very angry about Severus hiding this possibility from him and putting him into this situation without being able to do something against it.

"Thanks. I will be holding my phials of pain killers and headache potions in readiness. I very well might need them very soon. Good evening to you. Make sure you contact me and the dark Lord before you come by and visit Potter."

This night was going to be hell. Potter was going to be in so much pain for his transformation and the dark Lord would want to make sure he stayed by his and later her side during the whole process. In the background he could hear the stifled laughter and chuckling of his two friends.

Well, live sometimes really sucked.

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A/N: Reviews, constructive criticism, ideas and wishes for the further plotline are always very much appreciated and welcomed. Thanks to all of you who found the time and muse to leave a review or pot this story on favourite or alert mode. You all make my day!


	8. Making Connections

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

**Beta-reader:** Thanks, frannienzbabe, for the wonderful work you did on this chapter!

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8. Making Connections:

Draco Malfoy swept through the lightly dimmed halls and corridors of Slytherin Manor, huffing all the while.

The last few weeks had been a living hell. After the dark Lord had told him, well, more like ordered him, to return to Hogwarts, retrieve Potter's things and then return to Slytherin Manor, Draco had left immediately. And not one second to soon, he realized with dread. While he and his parents had been waiting for their Lord to tell them what to do, the teachers and Aurors at Hogwarts had been searching frantically for him. While the teachers didn't look necessarily happy nor sad to have finally found him in his personal quarters, the Aurors looked really annoyed and disappointed. They had been hoping to find proof Draco was associating with the dark side, so they could at least blame one person for all this mess with certainty.

As soon as they had left, Pansy had bounced into his room, gloating from ear to ear and the biggest self-assured and self-important grin on her not so beautiful face Draco had ever seen. After she had made sure no one was near and would be able to listen upon them, she had walked over to where Draco had been sitting on his chair, her hips swinging dangerously from one side to another, a seductive smile plastered on her face. Slowly she leaned forward, so Draco would be able to enjoy the view of her bare chest, as she wasn't wearing a bra, and her lips brushed hotly over his ears.

While Pansy was trying desperately to look and act seductively, Draco fought the urge to gag. He had made clear several months ago that she wouldn't become the next Malfoy Mistress and that nothing, no spell, no potion and no bribe would be potent enough to change his mind. This had left Pansy quite shocked, but desperate times required desperate measures and the plan she was currently trying to set into motion was not only a desperate one but highly illegal, too.

By trying to seduce him, Pansy was hoping she would become pregnant afterwards. As she was the last heiress of a pureblooded family and Draco would be the one to father her child, Draco would be obliged to marry her. It didn't do for a pureblooded girl to become pregnant and give birth to a child without being married. No, this didn't do at all.

Breathing hotly into his ear, Pansy whispered the news that would set him into such high spirits that he would forget everything around. Licking her teeth and breathing strongly into his ear, Pansy placed her hands onto his chest, stroking and crawling them up him like a little pet, before she started to nimble his ear and open his robes slowly and carefully. She was about to place his hands onto her hips and nudge him into starting a more active part of her game, as suddenly Draco's flat backhand connected with her face.

Glaring angrily at the offending and half crying girl, Draco stood up, grabbed her wrist and then threw her out of his rooms. He was breathing heavily, but not due to Pansy's ministrations but due to the ire and anger burning heatedly in his heart. She had tried to fool him into sleeping with her because of Potter. She had thought that the news of him having been kidnapped by the Death Eaters would please him so much, he would be willing to sleep with her.

Such a slut.

He had promised his parents to never do such a thing. It was risky to sleep with a girl without being married or at least engaged. The risk of her becoming pregnant and therefore his duty to marry her, would be too high. Though this unofficial rule only applied to pureblooded girls, Draco snorted dismissingly.

As if he would touch a girl of lower status.

He had warded his rooms against each and every person that would try to enter. The house-elves were ordered to double-check his food for potions and other things such as aphrodisiacs and to keep open eyes for people lurking around his quarters. He had finally been able to convince his parents that none of the girls residing at Hogwarts were good enough to please him and more important to live up to their family name. It had been a hard and long enduring fight, but finally he had won it. And this victory he would keep and let no girl come into his way.

The next few days had been the strangest in his whole live. He had seriously expected that the news of Potter's disappearance an possible defeat by the hands of the dark Lord, would throw the world into depression. What he hadn't expected was the wave of utter despair and hopelessness that suddenly crashed over the wizarding population. Students were crying, obviously thinking they would now die an immediate and most cruel death as their saviour had been brought down. The teachers were lethargic, as if they didn't see any hope and reason in teaching a student body that would most probably not live long enough to even enjoy their graduation. The politicians were at a loss at what to do. They had lost everything that stood for their hope, after all.

Draco had been most disgusted and annoyed.

He had known most of the wizarding population had relied on Potter to save them. But for them to fall in a bottomless hole of despair and hopelessness was even low for them. They must have relied on Potter and solely on Potter to save them. There was no other way or reason why else his disappearance should have hit them so hard.

It annoyed him and that to no end, but it did have its good side and its advantages. Due to their weak emotional state of mind, it had been most easy for Draco to hex some Gryffindor into bringing him all of Potter's remaining things. And thanks to the utter chaos, no one had even noticed their saviour's things had vanished into thin air. They had other things to think and care for. Potter's disappearance wasn't the only shocker of this night.

Weasley, Weaslette and Granger had died in the fight, too.

Now Draco knew the dark Lord wished for Potter to survive. Why, he didn't know exactly, but it wasn't his place to ask. He Lord wished for him to live so Potter would. That was why the dark Lord had ordered Draco to retrieve Potter's things. With them Potter would have less problems to get used to living in Slytherin Manor. Or so he thought. With Potter's best friends dead, this could come in handy or prove to be a rather hard disadvantage. It depended on whether Potter wanted to life, then their death would be useful as Potter wouldn't have to cut those strings himself. But if he wasn't too sure about wanting to live, their deaths could be the last point of throwing him into a deep depression.

It was a hard game and no one knew about its outcome.

Once he had had gotten hold of Potter's treasures, Draco had had to wait another three days until he had finished his school career and was able to return home without raising suspicions. The one week he had had to wait had been a horrible one and he his heart was filled with utmost joy and happiness the moment he was allowed to floo home from his personal quarters.

At home everything would get better.

Sadly he was immediately proven wrong. Having been the only child he was, Draco noticed immediately that something was gravely off. Normally he would have been his parents' centre of attention, but this time when he arrived home, his parents had barely more time than half an hour to greet and talk to him. Just when he was about to sit down and ask of them to join him, his parents stated they had to go. A bit surprised by their curt and nearly dismissive behaviour, Draco had asked whether it would be possible for him to go with them. To his great and utter shock his parents had declined and ordered him to stay at home, getting settled back in.

Draco had been shocked, but soon he dismissed their actions as something unique and not to happen ever again. The bigger was his shock when the next day his mother would bid farewell to him and his father after eating lunch to go somewhere. This was what had happened the last three weeks. His mother would leave just after lunch and return home barely before dinner. While his mother was gone, his father would disappear in his study, searching through old scrolls or making his paperwork. Having prided himself with the ability to find out everything his parents were hiding from him, even when they thought it highly improper to reveal those things to him, Draco was unable to find out where his mother was leaving to. It annoyed him to no ends that no matter what he did, his parents would keep absolutely quiet about this kind of business.

So after three weeks of his parents' strange and concerning behaviour, it came nearly as a relief when he was told to come to Slytherin Manor today and give Potter his little treasures. At first he had been mortified that he was supposed to be a common massager boy to the great Potter, but soon this feeling had changed. He had been informed by the dark Lord that his Master had chosen to blood adopt Potter as his heir. Now Potter wouldn't be a Potter anymore. His name was now Slytherin. He wouldn't look like Potter or act like Potter anymore and therefore there would be no need to call him by this name.

He was now the dark Lord's heir, one to respect and follow. Draco knew that his Master wished for him to befriend Potter, no, his son, so that the boy would have less difficulties finding his way and learning how things went on in Slytherin Manor. For Draco it was a huge and important show of trust that he was the one chosen to help the new dark Heir as he was to be called and no one else. It showed him and especially all those others that his Master held him in high regards and trusted him more than others.

With the dark Lord's son's things shrunken and neatly placed into his trouser pockets, Draco bid farewell to his parents. He didn't expect them to act any different than they had for the last three weeks so he didn't pay too much attention to them. Had he done so, he would have noticed that his father was looking a little bit nervous and his mother more than a little excited and expecting. This way, Draco just took a handful of floo powder, walked over to where their fireplace was located, threw the powder into the fire, making it become a fierce green, shouted out the name of his destination and swiftly walked through.

Mere seconds later Draco arrived at Slytherin Manor. With careful steps he left the fireplace and dusted of his robes. As no one was there for him to take him to the dark Lord's son, Draco got a little annoyed. They wanted him to collect his things but didn't see it fit to actually show him the way he was supposed to take. Huffing angrily, Draco decided to try his luck and start at the Manor's visitors lounge.

While he was walking through the strangely deserted hallways and corridors, Draco idly wondered what sight would greet him. He had never liked Potter, well, more like hated him like hell, but he never even knew why. It had just started in their first year and had developed into a full fetched rivalry and hate over the course of time. But now, with everything that had changed, Draco was expected to start anew and form a firm friendship with the new Potter. Many different emotions were running wild through his troubled mind. There was excitement, wonder, suspicion, slight fear and hope beyond measure.

Hopefully he would be able to get along with Potter.

Otherwise the consequences wouldn't be too endearing.

Reaching the last corner, Draco started thinking about what questions he wanted to ask Potter first. What does it feel like to be the dark Lord's heir? How was his relationship to his father developing? Did he call him Father? Dad? My Lord? Or even Voldemort? What has he been doing the last month? Were the other Death Eaters giving him trouble? Were they respecting him? Were they even bowing and following him?

With all those thought running wild through his mind, Draco turned around the last corner and stopped. He didn't know what he had expected, but fairly this wasn't it.

The visitors lounge was empty safe for one person. This itself was nothing too shocking, but it was the person that made his heart beat go wild. In the chair nearest to the window was sitting a young woman staring out into the well kept gardens. She wasn't moving, nor doing something special. Just sitting there, a book lying on her lap, but forgotten and therefore closed. Her chest was rising and sinking slowly with each breath she took.

Draco didn't know how long he had been staring at her, but with a jolt of his heart Draco suddenly realised how beautiful she was.

She had long, midnight black hair that fell down over her shoulders and reached down to her waist and caused a great contrast to her only slightly tanned skin. Her face was fair, beautiful even. A slim face with high, defined cheek bones went over into a slim throat, fine shoulders and a nicely formed chest. From his place near the door Draco could see that she had a very slim waist but nicely pronounced hips that went over to a pair of long, well shaped, feminine legs. Flicking his gaze back to her face, his eyes passed over her nice, short snub nose, her full, strawberry pink lips, to her perfectly trimmed midnight black eyebrows only to stop dead at her huge, expressive, sky blue eyes.

All in all the young woman was a beauty to behold.

Not knowing what else to do to catch her attention, Draco uncertainly cleared his throat. Obviously she must have been much deeper in thought than he had anticipated, as the young woman immediately jumped up from her seat and spun around, her eyes spinning around wildly. He could easily see her nice breasts heaving and sinking, as her delicate hand clutched dearly to her heart.

"I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't mean to cause you such fear."

Her eyes immediately fell upon him and though her heart beat seemed to cease considerably the young woman still remained tense. Draco could see directly into her eyes and what he saw surprised him greatly. The way her gaze wandered over him, scanning his face as if she knew and remembered him, made him feel extremely uncomfortable. And he didn't seem to be the only one. Her eyes immediately took over a resigned look, as if she was surrendering to her destiny, even if she didn't like it at all.

As the young woman was still not speaking but merely staring at him with those beautiful sapphire blue eyes of hers, Draco uncertainly stepped from one foot to the other.

"Excuse me, Miss, could you tell me where to find the dark Lord's son and heir? I have several things I shall need to return to him."

The young woman gulped several times before was obviously ready to even answer his question. She opened her mouth to answer, when suddenly the door leading to the rest of the Manor flew open and loudly crashed against the white painted wall. Before Draco or the mysterious young woman were able to spin around and look who had entered the visitors lounge in such a overly dramatic way, a dark shadow appeared behind the young woman and a deathly pale and thin hand was laid on her shoulder.

Lord Voldemort had just entered and he looked as scary as ever.

"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy. I see you are bringing my daughter's things. I'm very pleased to see you fulfilled your task so nicely. Follow my daughter to her private rooms and help get her things settled in. Afterwards I expect you both to behave nicely and wait for an adult to collect you."

After another stern look to the young Malfoy heir, who now stood there, his mouth shamelessly hanging wide open, Voldemort turned around to look at his daughter. The small flicker of a nice and soothing smile that threatened to break over his lips was nearly invisible if one didn't know where to look. He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly before he vanished again.

"Be nice to him. He didn't know a thing."

A low and suffering sigh escaped the young Slytherin heiress. When she straightened up and raised her gaze from the floor, she noticed that Draco Malfoy was still acting rather off. His eyes were wide open, his mouth was flipping open and closed and his hands had started to tremble slightly. But not enough, a small but bright blush slowly crept over the pale cheeks, making him look more alive than she had seen him in all her life.

As Draco was still too shocked to think and function properly, the Slytherin heiress carefully but sternly grabbed his sleeve and started to drag him through various hallways and corridors. While she was walking, she held her head carefully bent, as if she was feeling ashamed and couldn't bear the thought of someone looking into her eyes directly. Had Draco been able to pay more attention, he would have noticed he was right about her rather off behaviour.

Still too lost in his thoughts, Draco didn't notice the young woman stopping in front of a beautiful portrait and whispering the password to be able to enter. He couldn't believe it. It didn't make any sense. He had been told he was here to bring Potter his things back and to befriend the new dark heir. He hadn't paid much attention and thoughts to who this mysterious young woman might be. He had never seen her before, something that was really strange itself, but little fact had slipped his attention. Potter was supposed to still be a boy and therefore he hadn't been too interested in the young woman. Yes, she was a beauty and Draco had really hoped he would be able to see her soon, but not under this circumstances.

Groaning in dismay and shame, Draco suddenly realized he had been fantasizing about Potter, a thought that made his cheeks burn crimson red.

"I know you are shocked, but could you please snap out of it? I would like to settle my things in, but I won't be caught dead searching around your robes. So, please, hand me back my things."

Her stern and slightly annoyed voice caught Draco of guard and threw him off his train of thoughts. He had to blink several times, before he was fully able to understand the meaning of her words. But once he did, his cheeks redder even further, though this time out of embarrassment. With slightly shaking and clumsy movements, Draco searched through his trouser pockets. His head still bent and never meeting the young woman's eyes, Draco finally gave her Potter's things.

The young woman grabbed them carefully before she placed the items on her rather huge bed and enlarged them with a flick of her wand. Not sparing Draco a second thought or word, the Slytherin heiress started walking around the room, placing things in different cupboards and shelves. She did this with more elegance and finesse than Draco had ever seen Potter acting in school. Her midnight black waist length hair swayed slightly over her shoulders as her light blue eyes swept searchingly through her generous rooms.

Draco watched her every movement, trying to mesmerize the way she walked and acted. Once or twice he saw her swaying lightly on her high heels, dead giveaway that she indeed had problems walking in those murderous shoes of her. Once she had finished, the young woman sat down slowly in one of the armchairs, her hands neatly folded in her lap, her eyes never leaving his face.

This was, what broke him off his stupor.

"You are Harry Potter?"

He hadn't meant to blurt out like this, as it was going against everything his education had been standing for, but he couldn't stop himself. Hundreds of thoughts were running wild and troubling his mind, screaming at him and demanding answers. He couldn't believe what he was seeing and the more he was starting think about it, he didn't want to believe it. It was just too extreme. Even for Potter and the dark Lord.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

The young woman had been trying to keep her face neutral, but seeing him suffer from so much confusion and denial, the young woman was struggling very hard to keep her facial features under control. One would have thought she was the one to start raving and screaming, raging about the unfairness of the world, while he was enjoying her misfortune. But here she was, calmer than ever while Draco was at a loss at what to think.

"You are a girl now?"

This question got him a nicely raised eyebrow and a sadistic grin. Straightening herself up further in the deep blue armchair, the young woman bent her head and stared at her nicely developed chest without any shame or wonder. Running a hand over the left side of her chest, the young woman leaned back into her chair and looked at the Malfoy heir with a lazy grin on her lips.

"It seems so, Mr. Malfoy."

Seeing Draco blush deeply and start to sweat lightly, the young woman secretly congratulated herself for her daring move. The last four weeks she had been told that no pureblooded woman would ever show sexual actions or things that could be interpreted this way in public. It was unbecoming and not of her standing. But she wasn't in public, no, Draco Malfoy was alone with her in her rooms and seeing the look of utter discomfort on his face had made it worth it.

Though she already knew that she would never do something like this again. For no one in this world. It had felt just so wrong.

"The dark Lord adopted you?"

This was easy to answer. The young woman fetched the necklace that was hanging around her slim neck and had been hidden under her dark blue blouse. Holding it in front of her face, Draco could easily see the Slytherin emblem. In the same movement, the young woman extended her left hand and held forward her hand, so that he could see the elegant ring sitting on her finger.

The very sight made his breath hitch. It was the Slytherin family ring, enchanted like every other family ring that no one but a member of blood could take it off her hand, where it would remain, until she married into another family, only to be replaced by her husband's family ring.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

She had been very patient with him, Draco suddenly realized. Not once had she laughed at him, rolled her eyes or had insulted him. No, she had been sitting there, as if she had expected him to not understand what was going on. An aura of utter calmness radiated from her, differing so much from what Potter used to be. His rival had always jumped at the first possibility to hex and curse him. But this Potter was different. She was collected and in peace with herself. There would be no fights between them should she keep on acting this way.

"Okay, stop, no, again, you are Harry Potter, you are a girl now and the dark Lord adopted you? What the hell!"

A light chuckle escaped the girl's beautiful lips, ringing through her brightly illuminated room. Her bright blue eyes were shining with mirth and joy, as she flipped a strand of her hair back over her shoulder. Still looking into his eyes, the young woman smiled tentatively at him.

"What the hell, indeed, Mr. Malfoy. Those were my exact thoughts once the whole procedure was over and I was able to think clearly again."

This light chuckle finally brought Draco back to his senses. There he was, with a female and now adopted Potter sitting in front of him. She had answered each of his questions calmly, though they had been stated rather brute and had been more than a little private. She had been friendly and helpful, trying to ease his denial and shock while at the same time trying to calm him down. This wasn't the Potter he had started to hate and fight with. No, she was different.

She was a better person.

Blinking again in surprise, Draco sat down on the armchair opposite of her.

"Why do you keep on calling me Mr. Malfoy? It's not like you cared much for formalities before, Potter."

As soon as the last word had left his mouth, the friendly and nice atmosphere changed. Her eyes suddenly lost their warm glimmer and became steal like in mere seconds. Her posture stiffed and her face grew hard. He must have insulted her somehow, Draco realized, as she immediately started acting cold and distanced.

"I was told to be nice and try to befriend you, as surely were you. Now tell me, Mr. Malfoy, how should I accomplish this if I keep up the old grudges and feeling by calling you by only your last name? It isn't like as if I could easily go around and call "Draco". You know you have to offer this honour to me first, don't you?"

Leaning back in her armchair, the young woman levelled a stern and cold glare at Draco, silencing him even before he was completely able to open his mouth.

"And please refrain from calling me that name. My name is Saphira Slytherin and I want you to call me by this name. No one besides the dark Lord, your family and Snape know of my former self and it is to stay like this. The other Death Eaters don't know. So if you call me by that name again in public or even in this warded rooms, it is a high possibility that you sign my immediate death this way."

Looking from the door back to Draco, Saphira smiled coldly at Draco.

"And yours, too, you know?"

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**A/N: **I hope you are all satisfied with the way Harry/now Saphira looks. What's going on, what has been happening those few weeks and why she looks like this will be explained in future chapters.

Thanks to all of you, who read my story and found the time and muse to add my story to alert or favourite mode or leave a review. Constructive criticism, ideas for the future plot line, questions and comments are always very much appreciated and welcomed and always make my day!


	9. Stating business

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his life forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, and then please don't read further.

**Beta-reader:** Thanks, franienzbabe, for your wonderful work you did on my story!

**Attention!** From now on **Harry **will be called **Saphira**! Just so you know and don't get confused.

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9. Stating Business:

Saphira remembered the day she had been "born" like it had been yesterday.

Well, it clearly hadn't, but it had only been two weeks so far and to her it felt like no time. She could remember the fear and anxiety plaguing her frail body, how the heart had been pounding wildly and how sweat had started to pour down the forehead and throat. Hands had started to tremble, while the rest of the body shook violently. The thick, black untameable hair was pinned to the skull as big green eyes were staring at the wall in front of them through heavy and thick glasses.

The face has been sweaty, just as the hair and the rest of the body had been. Sickly, yellowish pale skin was giving the head the impression of a (Totenkopf). A pair of big, green eyes, too huge for the slightly fallen head and too pale as they, like the rest of the body, were plagued by a high and dangerous fever. The throat was feeling sore, the stomach ached, back and every single (Gelenk) hurt, as every single muscle was feeling like it was on fire. The eyes became dry, burning while desperate blinking only caused it to worsen and tears to run down the now brightly flushed cheeks.

The person in the bed was dying. High fever and some serious poisoning through magic wasn't something a body, and such a small and frail body that is, could take. Mere hours would pass, until the body would give up and the soul would be free to begin its journey to wherever it was sent to.

Panting heavily and enduring horrendous pain, the figure laying in the bed turned around abruptly as the door opened and two black clad figures swept in. One was a tall, black haired, pale faced man, wearing a deep frown on his face and several bottles of different and not very appetising looking potions in his hands. The other man was equally tall, but had a sickly pale looking skin. However most shocking were his facial features and his glowing red eyes. He had entered the room first, but was now standing in the background, observing what was going on with a great deal of fascination.

Harry's eyes, however, remained on Snape. Saphira knew it was strange, but she couldn't bring herself to think of the young man laying dying in this bed as herself. They had nothing in common, after all. While he was a man, she was a woman now. But aside from the obvious, they shared nothing. He was slightly tall, had unruly, dark brown hair, big green eyes, wore horrendous glasses and finally, his forehead was graced by this none appealing lightning bolt shaped scar. She, however, was slightly small, had nice wavy, midnight black hair, light blue eyes, didn't need glasses and was free of scars. There was nothing anymore, that bound them together.

They didn't even share the same genes anymore.

While Harry was the only son of Lily Evans and James Potter, Saphira was the only daughter of Lord Voldemort and whoever was the donator of her second x-chromosome. The Dark Lord had only one, after all. It only made sense he needed another female person to provide the potion with the necessary second. But whoever this person had been, so whoever was her mother in a technical way, she didn't know. Nobody had deemed it necessary to tell her.

She remembered how Harry had taken the potions wordlessly and had gulped them down without hesitation. To most it might be confusing and not understandable as to how the young man had been able to do all of this without ever looking back or fearing what may become of him. But Saphira understood. Not only because they shared the same soul and Harry's body had become his, well now her soul's new shell, but because of everything he had been through. Harry was tired of it all and he now only wanted to start a new life and hopefully be able to just live like a normal person for once in his life.

He wouldn't regret his decision, so why hesitate?

As soon as Harry had gulped the last potion, it started to effect his body. He had at first thought that the potions would need more time to become effective, like all those other potions needed, but these seemed to be different. His body started to burn from the inside out. He could feel his organs, muscles, skin and bones change, how he shrunk slowly, how his hair grew, how his body structure became smaller, finer, more feminine, how his facial features changed and how his eye sight became better and better. It was a horribly painful process.

And it had just started.

The worst feeling was that of his most important organ changing. Those small things that had made him a man. He could feel some of them shrinking, other enlarging quite dramatically and others just changing. As the effects started to become more apparent at his chest and lower abdomen, breathing suddenly became very difficult and low but painful gasps echoed through the room. Through his blurred vision, pain and tears made it impossible for him to decipher anything around him, Harry could see Voldemort approaching his Potions Master.

"Give him something against the pain. He will need it. As soon as the transformation is finished, infuse a sleeping draught into her system and then let her rest. Inform me, as soon as she is awake again."

With those last words, Voldemort turned around and swept of the room, leaving Harry to remain fighting alone this horrible and painful fight. Out of the corner of his eyes, Harry could see Snape nodding his understanding to his master, before he reached into his pocket and extracted another phial. Stepping forward and ignoring the tears and gasps of pain, just like the enormous trembling and shaking and the first, but already very noticeable changes in Harry's body, Severus placed the phial at Harry's shaking lips and forced the unpleasant liquid down his sore throat.

Immediately the pain lessened and mere seconds later Harry knew no more as everything became black.

Saphira remembered waking up the first time in her body just as good as Harry's last day. With her eyes closed, she just lay there, marvelling in the feeling of her sensitive skin being caressed by the soft, silky and slight cool sheets covering her body. She wiggled her toes in happiness, slowly gripped her fingers into the soft sheets and sighed again in contentedness to what she was feeling. It had been the first morning in a very long time that she had been able to wake up carefree and not burdened by several and dozens different kinds of pains wrecking her fragile body.

Laying just there in her bed, Saphira took more notice on her new body felt. She noticed the slightly tickling sensation of long, silky strands of hair moving lightly over her nose and lips with each breath she took. She noticed, how she seemed to be smaller than before, how her hands and feet felt smaller but at the same time finer. Her hips must have enlarged, as she now bumped against them when she wanted to place her arms just besides her torso. But not only her hips had enlarged. Taking a did breath, Saphira suddenly noticed the little extra weight pressing down her lungs.

Wrinkling her eyebrows in confusion, Saphira slowly opened her eyes and blinked. It took her some time to take in her surroundings, as the sun was shining brightly and unfortunately directly into her eyes, blinding her temporally.

As soon as her eyes had become used to the light, Saphira noticed the first big change. Though she wasn't wearing Harry's glasses, and she prayed she never would, she could see perfectly clear. Obviously Voldemort's and her "mother's" genes must be void of the one special gene causing bad eyesight. The feeling was great. Unlimited perfect eyesight, not having to turn her head constantly to the side so she could see what was going on beside her and not having to worry whether her glasses might fall off, it was pure heaven. Marvelling in and enjoying the feeling, a slight grin edged onto her lips, as she let her eyes wander.

Only to loose this grin as soon as her eyes wandered downwards.

Where Harry's firm, broad chest, steeled by many hours of strenuous Quidditch practice had once been, now two balloon like bulges were situated at her chest, heaving and sinking with each breath she took. It looked strange to her, though it shouldn't. She was a girl, seeing her breasts was something absolutely normal. But sadly all her experience came from Harry and part of her mind that still thought she was a boy, blushed heavily at her view and the prospect of seeing herself naked in a mirror while changing.

As soon as this unwanted thought crossed her mind, several other equally unwanted and unpleasant thoughts started to trouble her mind.

Seeing herself _completely _naked while changing. Harry had, though he was seventeen years old, never seen a girl naked before. He had wanted to take this step after he had been married or at least been with the girl in a steady relationship before. Not being allowed to watch TV and the prude wizarding press had left him unknowlegdable in this matter.

Meeting _guys_. Harry had been straight, straight as in, he only liked and loved girls. But now that Harry had become Saphira, she wasn't too sure whether she was straight in terms, too. Snape had told her, the new genes would change everything, even a bit of her mind. Especially those parts considered "male acting and thinking". So did this mean that from now on she liked and loved boys? Would she be drooling over them, suddenly realizing how attracting they were? Or would her mind need time and she feeling torn between her still male thinking parts of her mind and her newly achieved feminine thinking mind?

Meeting _Voldemort_. She knew he was her father now. But would it feel like this, or would her mind just tell her that due to his genes in her body he was considered her sire. Would she be able to create until then unknown feelings such as comfort, friendship, love, respect, trust and dependence for him, or would Harry's feelings stay. Hate, betrayal, fear, suspicion, horror and panic. And how was Voldemort going to act? Would he hug her and talk with her or would he just order her around and treat her like another servant?

Making _friends _and getting into a _relationship_. Would she have to ask Voldemort first, before she was allowed to make friends? Would he choose her friends for her? Or would she be free to do as she pleased? And then there was the matter of dating and finding a husband. Harry, just like she, had always wanted to have a family. Little kids of his, now her own to dote over, to raise up and form after her wishes and ideals. Would Voldemort choose the one to marry her and father her children? Or would she have a say in that matter, too? It was after all, her organs and body to be used for this.

Many more thoughts and all equally unpleasant were running through her head, distracting her so much, she didn't even realize the door opening and someone entering. When a loud clearing of a throat finally brought her back to reality, Saphira spun around to come face to face with Snape, who was looking uncomfortably at her. In his hands, he was holding another set of potions and several unfilled documents, waiting for her and Voldemort to fill them.

And as if he had heard her thought, the door opened and the dark and dangerous man, hated and feared by nearly the entire population entered her room. As he turned to look at her, his normally stoic and emotionless face faltered, revealing surprise and a look of pleasant shock. A dangerous glint passed through his eyes and a hungry expression shortly stole its way over his thin lips.

Saphira gulped and waited for what was to come.

* * *

In retrospect, Saphira thought that their first meeting had gone better than expected.

First of all, Snape had been told to give her a check up, to make sure there were no longer lasting damage done onto her system and to make sure she was healthy. Furthermore he was to look for small things that could hint at problems that may occur in the future or other things being wrong. So after a lot of prodding and pinching Saphira was finally told that she was perfectly healthy and nothing was there to indicate arising problems in the future.

After her medical check up, Voldemort sent Snape away. The black, billowing robes had caught her mind, capturing her spirit. Here she was, sitting alone with her former archenemy, left alone, defenceless and at his utter mercy. She couldn't suppress the gulp and the small but strong waves of fear crashing her body. She didn't know what to expect and this unsafeness and mass of possibilities left her shaking and at the verge of a mental break down.

But whatever she had feared, Voldemort had proved her wrong. And though he may not have been the friendliest and nicest person to talk to, he had never threatened or scared her in any way. His voice, just like his face, eyes and posture had been firmly controlled, trying to appear as soft as a man with blood red eyes, snake like nostrils, sickly white like pale skin, spidery fingers and blood of several hundreds of people sticking on his hands could be.

Folding his hands he had told her that she needed a new name. Harry Potter was out of the question. That young man wasn't anymore and Voldemort couldn't just go around calling his only daughter by a male name. Harriet was out of question, too. It was an old-fashioned name and though it was the female version of Harry, it wouldn't do for her to be called this. So Voldemort had gone on about, what the importance of a name in the pureblood society was.

The lecture nearly lasted over half an hour and frankly, afterwards she knew so much more, but that didn't help her at all. She understood that Voldemort had been thinking about a name that connected with her and told more about her. This thought left her slightly nauseous. She didn't want to think about what Voldemort would come up with as good qualities of her.

Androgynia, as a reference to her both genders. Though this not only sounded awfully, but would be a dead give away and get her killed within days. Victoria Mea, because due to her being a girl and his daughter, Voldemort had just won the war. Pristina Hostis, for she had been his enemy for quite a long time now. Fortuna, because fate hated her and she seemed to be bound to her by force. Misera, because her lack of luck was well known among the wizarding world. Servila, because she depended on him to live. Calamita, because that's what her situation was. Her defeat. Or should he feel very uncreative, he might just call her Filia. She could imagine quite some more, but none of them sounded too appealing.

Harry had found out in his third year that he should have done the same as Hermione and just quit Divination and take Ancient Runes instead. He loved ancient languages and the knowledge that only few could read and understand them, made it only the more fascinating for him. Those were the true secrets of their world, hiding in plain sight, waiting for special people to come and find them. He had one day come across one of Hermione's Runes homework and was fascinated and captivated from the very beginning. Since then he would study runes and latin during his free time, gaining quite an understanding for the matter.

Sadly Hermione would never find out that Harry had been able to read and understand all of the small pieces of parchment she had been leaving laying around.

"Your will be called Saphira Sita Slytherin."

Saphira had to confess, that didn't sound half as bad as she had expected it to be. Well, Sita did sound a bit strange but as it was her middle name, she would never have to use it in public.

"Your last name will be Slytherin, as I will claim this name and title as soon as this war is finished. It is my right to do so and as you share my blood, it will be yours to enjoy too. Saphira is for your eyes. They look like sapphires, the purest form I have ever seen. In the pureblood society it is very common to name children after what makes them special. And though you may not believe me your eyes make you special. There is no living person to share your eyes. And finally Sita. You are a pureblood now and you are my daughter. You will marry a pureblood, continue this special and important line and you will remain pure until I deem you acquainted enough to marry your husband."

So, that was it. She would carry on her father's and her heritage, was named after a special and expensive gem that shared the colour of her eyes and was named after the hindi goddess of pureness and virgin marriage. Well, all in all, she didn't got it too bad but rather came out of it quite lucky.

After the business with her new name had been brought through, Voldemort fetched the small mountain of parchment sheets and conjured a quill and ink. With slow, measured movements, Voldemort dipped the quill into the ink and started to fill out the forms. Not once did he look up from the sheets layed in front of him and as no words were spoken, Saphira was left to watch him fill out her new identity. As soon as he had filled in the gaps, though he had somehow managed to hide the ones about her birthday, place of birth and mother, Voldemort turned the sheets around and indicated for her to fill them out.

As soon as they had filled out all of them, Voldemort packed the sheets away, vanished the quill and ink and moved to stand up from his chair. With a stern, but somehow strangely caring look in his eyes, Voldemort stared at her.

"You should stay in bed. Severus told me it isn't safe for you to stand up before tomorrow morning. I will leave some books behind for you, so you will be able to learn something about pureblood society, customs, mannerisms and history. If you need something, just call for a house-elf. They are ordered to provide you with everything you need. Tomorrow Severus will come by and check up on you. We will talk about your studies and Narcissa will visit to start your training on how to act like a proper lady. Later during that day a tailor will visit to measure you for your new wardrobe. It will be then that you may have a look at what you look like. Until then keep it low and sleep a lot."

With that and a final, curt nod to her, Voldemort left the room, leaving behind Saphira with a huge mountain of books.

Well, the next few days looked like they were about to get funny and interesting, Saphira thought in sarcasm.

The last few weeks passed by in a blur. Saphira had spend her first day as a girl uneventfully. Like Voldemort had recommended, Saphira had read, well more like looked into most of the books he had left behind for her. To her absolute surprise, she found them quite interesting. Most things she hadn't known of before and frankly, she asked herself, how Harry had been able to last so long without even the slightest ounce of knowledge about this world.

Another surprise was the ease with which the house-elves treated her. She had expected them to cower to the floor, shake madly like they would at having to fear she would scream at them and stammer unintelligently. So when she called for the first time to get something to eat around lunch, she had done this with a lot of dread and foreboding. But when the small creature appeared, instead of cowering and stammering she found herself face to face with a small, broadly smiling and happily bouncing, female house-elf.

It seemed the house-elves had gotten wind of her having been Harry Potter, hero and saviour of the house-elves and therefore had to be treated with the utmost respect. They nearly tripped over each other to fulfil her wishes and complied happily to whatever she wished for. With a slightly foreboding feeling Saphira thought about what Voldemort would say should he ever see them acting like this.

She would have to tell the house-elves to keep a low profile while around him. Otherwise he might have their heads.

After all that had happened this day, Saphira immediately fell asleep as soon as it became slightly dark outside. Not only had the been physically draining, she felt emotionally drained as well. Her eyelids became heavy, her breathing evened and soon she was far gone. She was soon too far asleep to realize how a dark clad figure stole its way into her room, came near to her bed and stayed there to watch her sleep. Nor did she notice the several pairs of big, round, blue eyes and the pair of dark, brooding eyes keep a firm look on the dark clad person.

The next morning, Saphira found herself well rested and excited of what was to come. In a sad attempt to straighten and comb her hair, Saphira ran her long, slim fingers through her thick, long, silky black hair. She was just about to finish her breakfast as the door to her room opened and Severus Snape and her father Voldemort entered.

Her father. It sounded so strange to her.

Severus took his task very exactly, Saphira noticed. While he was checking on her and making sure that everything was fine, he never touched her in any way or looked at her for too long. She didn't know why, but inwardly she thought it may have something to do with Snape's and Harry's former relationship. Voldemort, as strange as the thought may be, must have warned him to treat her better and to not let his old grudge and hate cloud his vision.

As soon as he had finished his task, Snape bid his farewell and left the room. An uncomfortable, deafening silence settled into the room and though Saphira was absolutely sure that Voldemort would never do something to her as he had gone to quite some lengths to save and protect her, she still didn't feel at ease around him.

"I know you finished your school career, but you still will have to be taught further. You will have to taught further before you might be able to take over an apprenticeship. I know from Severus that you are fairly gifted with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration and Charms. Your marks in Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures are well above average. However, your marks in History of Magic are severely lacking. And so is your understanding of Potions. Divination I won't even say something to this fraud."

She remembered clearly how pleased she had been when Voldemort indirectly praised her skills. Never once had anyone done that before. Her relatives might sooner die than admit she was good at anything. Her professors always thought it normal to be gifted in some parts, while her friends and their families never felt it necessary to acknowledge her skills. Hermione had always been the genius, while everybody else only saw Harry as the small, averagely gifted, Quidditch prodigy.

Though she had to admit being dressed down for her lack in Potions and History of Magic, two subjects of great importance to Voldemort, had embarrassed her quite a lot. She could feel how she literally turned red like a tomato, as she averted her eyes in shame. She would have to get better than that. The look of utter disappointment in his blood red eyes had made her want to vanish into the floor. She would have to improve those skills. For her, so he would stop looking like that at her. For him.

How come she had to get adopted by her archenemy to develop a healthy feeling of need to prove herself?

"Those lack of skills will be taken care of. Severus offered to teach you again in Potions." He paused, as he must have seen her flinch and see her eyes darken. "Don't fret, he promised he would treat you fair and never dress you down again for something you can't influence anymore." He laughed heartedly, though with a hint of cruel contentedness, when he saw how she was staring at him with wide open eyes. "I made him take an unbreakable vow. So you can be fairly sure Severus will keep his words. Well, he better be."

He leaned back again in his chair and levelled his gaze at her slightly squirming form.

"You will be furthermore be taught in Runes, Arithmancy and the Dark Arts. Those are very important branches of magic and it is of utter importance you master them. Do your best, Saphira, I will accept nothing less."

And so it had been agreed on. Severus Snape would teach her in Potions, Lucius Malfoy would teach her the Dark Arts, while Narcissa Malfoy would teach her Runes and Arithmancy. While she had classes during afternoon, Narcissa would come by each morning and teach her the art of being a pureblood lady. Sitting, standing, walking in high heels, talking, eating, dressing and thinking. Harry hadn't known being a woman could be so difficult. Had he, he would have valued them even more.

And so weeks flew by. Everyday happened the same. Breakfast, being checked on by Severus Snape, having lessons in the morning with Narcissa and being tortured by her into fitting all her wishes, having lunch in her room, lessons with Lucius, Narcissa and Severus and finally dining with her father. Each evening her father would ask her about her progress and each evening she would please him by what she had achieved. Soon she started to look forward to his praise and even sooner she became dependent and even addicted to his approval.

She came to live for him and she didn't even notice.

And then last week, one evening during dinner, her father told her that soon Draco Malfoy would come by and would bring the rest of her personal belongings. She felt something stir inside of her. Draco Malfoy, the pompous, arrogant jack-ass, would bring her personal things. Not without having sneaked a look inside of them first, of course. He would raid her privacy and she wasn't even able to tell him to stop it.

But worst of all, Malfoy didn't know Harry had become a girl.

A shudder, followed by a wave of anger and resentment washed over her, as she imagined the face he would pull. The wide, self-assured smirk, the leering look in his steel-grey eyes, his better-than-you posture. He didn't know why she had been doing this. Why Harry had sacrificed all this to become Saphira. He didn't know and Saphira didn't feel like sharing. But he would gloat, she knew. He would feel like having bested her at least in one stupid game.

Being a man.

And as she resented their meeting so much, time flew by even faster and sooner than she could have expected, Draco Malfoy's arrival at Slytherin Manor had come by. She spend the day pondering, as she had been cleared of all her studies for this day. Her mind was racing and she was thinking about what different kinds of cruelty Malfoy would make her suffer through. A slightly, sarcastic smile crept over her features.

Wait, until he finds out you are his better now. Her father will make sure of that.

She was so engrossed in her musings, she didn't even realize him arriving. So when suddenly a load clearing of a throat echoed through the room, Saphira flinched heavily and spun around. She couldn't help but suck in her breath sharply and stare numbly at the man standing in front of her. She could feel her heartbeat unconsciously quicken, as a small blush unwillingly crept over her cheeks.

There was Malfoy, wearing a dark blue cloak, small silver embroidery gracing its hems. He looked like always. His silver blond hair being combed back neatly, being held together through a small plait reaching his shoulders. He had broad shoulders, a nice defined chest, strong and firm arms and a well formed body. His face was aristocratic. Small, straight nose, neatly kept eyebrows, nice lips and two orbs of silver grey eyes staring openly at her figure. He looked like always, she realized, and nevertheless she felt breathless and light-headed.

Damn, who was she kidding? Malfoy was looking like a personified sex-god and she was suffering from the after effects.

Damn her female hormones.

Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, her father entered and broke to Malfoy that the young, good looking woman standing in front of him, was not only his daughter, but also his former nemesis Harry Potter. Sometimes, Saphira cursed to herself, parents had the strange affinity to always bring shame and embarrassment above their children. Even if they might not even mean it.

With her father disappearing off to god knows where, things became awkward. Malfoy followed her like a lost puppy, mouth and eyes wide open, looking as undignified as he could only want to look. They reached her rooms without complications, but even inside her room, Malfoy wouldn't stop staring at her. The look of utter disbelief and surprise was starting to get the better of her and irritated she snapped at him. And though this seemed to bring him out of his trance or stupor or whatever he had been suffering, things still remained awkward.

They each took a seat, but while Saphira had hoped Malfoy would remember his upbringing, Malfoy had obviously thrown all knowledge about correct behaviour in the presence of a young lady out of the window. He snapped at her, asked her stupid questions and later even dared to insult her by using Harry's name. Not that Harry's name was a shame on her. No, it never would be. But to use it in such a fashion was pure idiocy and would get her killed sooner than later.

She had to seriously dress him down for that.

Now they were sitting in silence, each hanging after their thoughts. She didn't know what was going on in Malfoy's head and frankly, she couldn't care less. He had proved he was as much of jack-ass here as he had been at school. The revelation was truly surprising, seeing as she liked his parents quite a lot. But every family had a black sheep and Malfoy here seemed to be this family's one.

A slight movement alerted her to her surroundings. Malfoy had leaned back into the chair, his frame relaxing against the soft cushions, his face contemplative. She could feel herself tense, as she watched Malfoy knit his fingers together and hum lowly in uncertainness. But as sudden as this change had been, the next one was even more surprising. A strongly teasing look appeared in his eyes and the air of superiority started to swirl around him again. He leaned back, his hands folded behind his head, a teasing smile on his lips and a leering look in his eyes.

"Pray tell, _Saphira_. How is it to be the Dark Lord's _daughter_?"

A low growl escaped her throat and it took all her willpower to not strangle him right here and there.

Oh, how she hated this good-looking jack-ass.

Someday she would probably kill him.

* * *

A/N:

I really wish to thank all of you, who not only found the time to add my story to their alert or favourite lists, but who also had the time and muse to leave a review for me. Thanks, you are all making my days. As always I want you to know that constructive criticism, ideas and wishes (exspecially those, I seem to lack ideas for the story at the moment...) and reviews are always very much welcomed and make my day. I hope you liked the new chapter and that you are okay with the way the story goes...

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Name explanations:

- Androgynia : hybrid/hermaphrodite (I don't know the difference, so please just take the correct one.)

- Vicoria Mea: my victory

- Pristina Hostis: former enemy

- Fortuna: destiny

- Misera: misfortune

- Servila: dependence

- Calamita: defeat

- Filia: daughter


	10. Deceiving Emotions

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his life forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, and then please don't read further.

**Beta-reader:** Thanks, franienzbabe, for your wonderful work you did on my story!

**Attention!** From now on **Harry **will be called **Saphira**! Just so you know and don't get confused.

**For better understanding:** _This will be flashbacks and memories, _this will be the normal story going onwards with thoughts and speech.

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10. Deceiving Emotions:

"You want to know how my life as the Dark Lord's daughter is, Draco."

Her tone was sickly sweet and pleasantly nice. With her back leaning against the rest of her chair and her hands neatly folded in her lap, she looked like a perfect angel. Her hair was falling lightly in free, huge waves over her shoulders and her eyes seemed to sparkle as she smiled lightly at the young man sitting opposite of her.

He seemed to buy her friendliness, she realized. His posture was relaxed, his back leaning against his chair, his legs crossed while his arms rested on the chair. A tiny glint was in his bluish grey eyes as his face lit up and he let his lips grace a small, but teasing smile. Little, unnoticeable waves of contentedness and happiness radiated from him as he looked at her body again in praise and wonder.

He didn't care for what she was feeling. Nobody did. He, like all those others just thought she would be happy and content to be a girl. Nobody ever bothered to ask for her feelings. At any time of the day someone was by her side, keeping a firm hand over her actions. But though someone was always there, she was always alone. Beside of her father nobody had ever asked for her feelings. And though he wanted her to be honest with him, Saphira just couldn't get herself to open up to him in such a drastic way.

She was his daughter. She was supposed to feel happy and honoured.

When she was allowed to leave her bed for the first time the day after she had been born, Saphira had idly wondered how long it would take for Harry's consciousness to get second thoughts. Her father had been standing by her side, his eyes never leaving her body, as he offered her a helping hand and helped her standing up. His hand never left her body, always staying at her hip, guiding her and holding her. It had felt strange and slightly wrong. He was her father; he wasn't supposed to touch her in this way.

But even as she had felt uncomfortable, she held her mouth shut. And mere seconds later she found out it was a good thing to do. Snape, who had been with them the whole time to be there should she need something, was eyeing the interaction critically, with a slightly worried frown on his face. His dark eyes were resting at his Master's back, trailing over the way he was standing just behind her, unconsciously touching her hair or back. Out of the corner of her eyes, Saphira watched how his expression suddenly changed. His face became unhealthy pale, his hands must be starting to sweat and he wasn't able to suppress the heavy gulp as a look of horror passed over his face.

"M-master, shall I h-help you with her?"

It was the wrong thing to say.

With murderously blazing eyes, his jaw firmly set, teeth gritting against each other's and his wand at hand, Voldemort spun around and pointed his wand at his now crouching servant. It had happened so fast, Saphira was left blinking to understand what had happened. Severus Snape was on his knees, his head dutifully bowed, and his whole body shaking. She could see his fearful wide open eyes, the way his lips trembled, sweat pouring down his forehead.

He was scared. And it was most understandable.

"Leave, Severus. You have been of good use for me lately; it would be most unpleasant should I have to kill you now. Leave, as long as you are able to."

Snape gulped, but immediately rose to his feet and made a mad dash for the door. Nothing was left of his normally ever so elegant and better than you attitude. With a final stammered "Thank you, my lord." Snape opened the door and literally jumped out of the room.

As soon as Snape had left them alone, Saphira felt quite uncomfortable. She could feel her father's hand through her shirt and could feel the closeness between them. It made her gulp in fear and caused her body to stiffen lightly. Mere seconds ago Voldemort looked vivid and vicious enough to kill her Potions Professor right here and there. What held him from killing her instead? Would he just kill her for breathing too loudly or for walking too slowly?

But whatever her overworked mind was spinning out, Voldemort just kept quiet. Without uttering a single word, her father slowly but demandingly pushed her forward, his one hand at her back to guide her, the other at his side to catch her should she fall. Patiently he waited for her, allowed her to walk at her own pace until they finally reached his destination. Around the corner of her room, a place she hadn't been able to see from her position of her bed, there was standing a huge, antique looking mirror.

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to look at her new self, see the proof that she was indeed his daughter and wanted her to accept her new identity. It was an understandable thing to do; perhaps she would have done the same, had she been in his position. But now she only felt pressured, forced. This confrontation was way too soon. She might not even be able to accept her new identity, much less the fact that she now was Voldemort's daughter and would surely look like him.

With a last, insisting push, Saphira stumbled in front of the mirror. What she saw wasn't half as bad as she had currently imagined herself to look. She had Voldemort's pale skin and his dark hair. With a start she remembered how he had looked as a teenager and idly she realized she looked a bit like his once dashing self. Her eyes were of the stunning light blue that had finally named her. And though she had not thought it possible, she now understood all too well why Voldemort had been so fascinated with them.

But as much as she recognized some of Voldemort's, now her, features, there were equally many of them she couldn't place. Her nose was smaller and straighter than his, her lips fuller and rosier. The shape of her eyes were different, too. They were bigger, rounder than his now red ones. All in all, Saphira thought, she didn't look bad it at. No, to be honest, she really looked beautiful. From what she could tell, just like the woman who had donated the second female part of her genes must be.

She really would have to thank her for donating and Voldemort for choosing her.

Too wrapped up with her thoughts and musing, Saphira didn't realize how her father slowly approached her. He had a content look in his eyes, making the red shine even more. But as happy as his eyes seemed to be, a solemn and sad the smile was on his thin lips. Had she been mentally present, she would have noticed how though his body was present; his mind seemed to be somewhere totally different, far, far away.

It needed a low chuckle from her father and the slight reprimand that staring wasn't something a lady should do, to make her realize the image in front of her wouldn't just vanish. This was her. This was what she was going to look like for the rest of her life. And though she knew this all too well, it wouldn't be the last reprimand she would have to endure.

Especially Narcissa seemed to enjoy scolding and reprimanding her. One could think she was paid for it.

"_Quit staring at your breasts, Saphira. It is most unbecoming. For Merlin's sake, one might think you had never in your life seen ones before."_

Well, yes, she hadn't. And nor had Harry. So, in her mind it was quite understandable she was a little freaked out by them. It was so strange. Every time she wore something, the shirts and blouses would accentuate her breasts, making them look like they were about to jump out of her bra. She didn't like having them. It made her feel uncomfortable and no matter how much she wore, she would always feel exposed and naked. She hated being in the presence of other males. She always imagined them staring and leering at her breasts, causing her discomfort to grow.

And though the thought of her breasts made her uncomfortable, this was nothing against the feeling she had suffered from when she had looked at herself for the first time naked.

_It had been the day she had for the first time been allowed to have a look at her new body. After her father had left the room to give her some peace and time to adjust, Saphira realized she was still wearing the things she had been giving after her transformation. The clothes were clammy and sticky. Idly she traced a hand over her arm, only to pull it away in disgust. Her skin, like her hair, was sticky and sweaty, too. And as she hadn't been bathing for the last four days, the smell of Harry's sweat and hers were invading the otherwise very fresh air. _

_A shower would be needed, she decided. _

_With careful, little steps, Saphira entered her bathroom. It was nice, everything was in whitish and golden colours. A huge shower was placed in the corner furthest away. frosty glass would be protecting her naked figure from unwanted eyes. In the middle of the room was a huge, round bathtub. The toilet was on the other side of the room, a sink next to it. While three of the walls were painted in white with golden floral patterns popping up here and there, the fourth wall, the wall next to the shower, was a single, huge mirror._

_Her heart was pounding, as she walked over to the mirror. Taking in her female features, her hip-long, night black hair and her sky-blue eyes, Saphira realized, she couldn't stand seeing herself while undressing. With a final look at herself wearing clothes, Saphira closed her eyes firmly and slowly started to undress with heavily trembling fingers. One after another the shirt, her trousers and finally her shorts found their way to the floor. The suddenly colder air now hit her heated skin with full force, causing Saphira to shiver. _

_Counting in her mind until then, Saphira took a last shuddering breath, before she finally opened her eyes again._

_What she saw caused her to gasp._

_She saw a beautiful, small, petite, young woman. Her skin was an even, milky one. No single, dark hair was tainting her body. Idly Saphira wondered how this was even possible. As Harry, his body had always been graced with darker hairs. He had had several hairs darkening his legs and even some at his chest. Not to speak of the ones around his chin that dearly wanted him to grow a beard. But as Saphira, despite her eyebrows and her hair at her head, there were none._

_With her eyes firmly steeled at her face, Saphira let her gaze slowly wander further downwards. She kept a firm look at her chin, how it went over to her jaw and finally her throat. From there her shoulders parted, two small bones showing where her upper arm muscles started. Her heartbeat increased and her breath came in more shallow hitches, as she finally tore her eyes further downwards._

_Her breasts were nice, Saphira had to confess. Without the clothes hiding them, they seemed to be even bigger than before. From Harry's memory Saphira could retell that she was what Seamus would call really nicely developed. Her slightly pale breasts were nicely round but not too big to look disfigured or wrong on her small and petite body. Turning around to the right and the left, Saphira could tell that she had a nice upper body with a good looking bum, too. Having played Quidditch as a boy surely seemed to have come in handy now. _

_A small smile graced Saphira's face as she remembered one day at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry had been sleeping as it was during the holidays and there was no need to get up so soon. A slightly ruffling sound had thrown Harry out of his realm of dreams. His hands had been fishing for his glasses, as he heard two people slowly and carefully open the doors to their doors. Carefully, as so they wouldn't realize he was awake, Harry placed his glasses on his nose and peeked around his curtains. _

_Immediately he realized that he didn't need to be so cautious. The two persons, Hermione and Ginny, were obviously deeply engaged into a lively discussion. He could see them waving their hands agitatedly, their eyes shining with never seen before passion and their faces lightly flushed with excitement. Both seemed too caught up in their conversation to realize that Harry was awake and keen on listening in their conversation._

_He could see Hermione motioning to her upper body, a slight blush on her face. She was speaking in hushed voices, her eyes darting around as if she was fearing someone could hear what she was saying. Whatever it was it caused Ginny to scoff at her and shrug her shoulders in defiance. A comforting hand was placed on her arm as Ginny looked at her in a soothing way._

"_Don't listen to that cow Lavender. Your body is nice and good-looking as it is. Especially your breasts. Don't let Lavender tell you they are too small. They are perfect as they are. You look nice, like a real woman. Ron loves you the way you are, you don't have to change for him to love you. In contrast to me."_

_The last part had been mumbled, but Harry understood it none the less. The tone and the look in Ginny's eyes had Harry caused to feel a painful pang in his heart. Ginny loved him, but she thought she wasn't good enough for him. He could see her looking at herself in the mirror when she thought no one was watching. A wistful look would creep through her eyes every time her eyes darted over her breasts. She wasn't feeling comfortable in her body and Harry, whose duty as a good boyfriend was to make her feel loved and cared for, had obviously failed._

_Saphira remembered how Harry had planned to surprise Ginny. Everything had been perfectly thought through; he was only waiting for the right moment. And then, when he finally thought he could show her how much he loved her the way she was, Hogwarts was attacked. _

_Ginny died. And Harry was no more. _

_Sighing lightly and wiping the tears away, Saphira finally decided it was time to take the last step. With a shuddering breath, Saphira literally forced her eyes to wander further downwards, over her breasts, to her abdomen, to her navel, to her hips and finally to the beginning of her legs. Her curiosity awoken, Saphira dared to turn and turn to get a better view. She marvelled at the fact that everything that had made her Harry was now gone, only to be shoved into the inside of her body to be what makes her Saphira. It was a strange sight. There was nothing._

_Well, she couldn't see anything at all. _

_Curious, Saphira bent her head down and slowly spread her legs to get a better look at the one thing that truly would make her a woman. Only to immediately wish she hadn't. There, between her legs, where once Harry's penis had been, was nothing but a… slit. A tiny slit that disturbingly looked like a mouth with those two lips. It was so… so… tiny. It could only be wrong, couldn't it? It must surely be too small. How was she supposed to be able to stomach another man's penis, much less be able to press a baby out of it? It could only be wrong. Wrong, so very wrong._

_Suddenly Saphira felt hot. Her breath came in raging breaths, ragged, her chest heaving and sinking. She could feel her hands start to tremble as she felt hot and cold at the same time. Her surroundings started to spin and became dizzy, as the room became darker and darker._

_She was having a panic attack or a mental breakdown. Whatever came first._

_Seeing the small opening between her legs had suddenly made it all too real. She couldn't stand it anymore. The walls of her bathroom were coming nearer and nearer and she suddenly had severe problems with breathing. It felt, as if something was binging her chest, preventing her from getting this much needed air._

_With tears running down her cheeks, Saphira bolted out of her bathroom and with a desperate sob launched herself at her bed. To cry for Harry, herself and the unfairness of it all. _

But sadly her breasts and her new female organs weren't the only parts of her body causing her problems.

"_Honestly, Saphira, you have to do something with your hair. You can't just let it fall down to your hips. It will always get into your way. Keep it up. I promise you, you will look lovely with your hair up."_

Had anyone ever asked her whether she wanted to look cute or lovely? Harry didn't do sweet, so she wouldn't do either. But like always, nobody cared for what she wanted.

"_Honey, as a woman of your position, it is wiser to just always smile and keep your nice mouth shut. Women don't speak in public and much less do anything that contradicted what their husband or father said. It's rude and it doesn't become you. If you must, speak to him afterwards, but not in the presence of others."_

Had anyone ever asked her whether she was okay with this? She wasn't a piece of meat, nothing to just stare and leer at. She hated being reduced to her good looks and position. She had so much to offer. She was funny, intelligent, very interested in lots of things, she was spontaneous and quite easy going if she wanted. Never would Harry have expected his daughter, girlfriend of wife to just sit there, hold his hand and smile. It was belittling and insulting.

This wasn't what she had expected.

Every time she remembered this conversation, fear and anguish would creep into her soul and cause her heart to ache in sorrow. Was that what her life was going to be? Would she have to keep quiet, always looking nice and friendly as long as she was at her father's side? Would she ever be free, truly herself? Or would she be free, only to be bound to the next male, the one who would be her husband, to sit next to him, hold his hand, keep quiet and keep on smiling?

But sitting and smiling was nothing compared to walking and standing.

"_For Merlin's sake, Saphira, walk like a woman. Use your grace and elegance! You can't just walk like this. Keep your head up, straighten your back, make smaller and lighter steps and please, please, keep your arms at your side. You can't just walk with them swinging around like that. You are a lady."_

_No, Saphira thought with hurt and ire. She wasn't a lady. She was Saphira, a girl, who had been a boy for the last seventeen years of her life. _

_How was she supposed to just forget all those things that kept popping up in her mind? She had always been walking like this and never had anyone commented on it. She didn't like to keep her head up, it made her look arrogant and full if herself; two things she definitely wasn't. She didn't like making small steps. Those wouldn't help her should she need to get away. And lastly she hated keeping her arms at her side. It looked so wrong, like she was all stiff and dead. _

_This wasn't how Harry had been walking._

_But arguing would be futile. Her father, just like Snape and the two Malfoy's found her current walking disgraceful and a shame to her family's name. She had been severely scolded by her father, once he had seen her walking in those monsters Narcissa called high heels for the first time and immediately her "girl lessons" with Narcissa had been doubled. Now every morning, Narcissa would come by and make her walk up and down the same corridor for what seemed hours. And every time Saphira would ask herself why again she had agreed to go through this torture._

_Because you wanted to life, her consciousness would scream at her. You wanted to live so desperately that you agreed to do everything you needed. Perhaps she had been wrong to do so._

_But now it was too late._

_With a low, suffering sigh, Saphira straightened up again. She was just about to show the world that Saphira Slytherin, former Harry Potter, the boy who lived, saviour of the wizarding world, the one to safe them all, would not be intimidated by a mere pair of black, sky-high shoes, as she made another step and lost her balance. A small yelp escaped her lips as a light cracking sound echoed through the halls and a sharp pain shoot through her left ankle. With tears forming in her eyes and a low groan on her lips, Saphira kneeled down and slowly massaged her badly hurting ankle. She must have strained it, she realized._

"_By Merlin, Saphira. You act like it was impossible to walk in those shoes. It's so easy. Really, I just don't understand what your problem is. Look, one foot before the other, a light, but really only light sway of the hips and then another step. It's so easy. Really, Saphira, what is your problem?"_

_She had just strained her ankle, she was tired and in a bad mood. She was walking in those impossible shoes, her feet aching, her toes hurting and her knees already bloody from all the times she had crashed against the hard stone floor. She, a former boy, who had never once before been walking in those monstrosities, how was she supposed to walk in them? Did they really expect her to wake up as a girl and suddenly feel all girly and stuff? _

_With a hurtful and angry glare at the Malfoy Matriarch, Saphira gritted her teeth together and straightened up again. And though her ankle hurt like hell and she was barely able to keep her tears at bay and her lips from trembling, she kept up a hard and cold mask. It wouldn't help her to let them see her weak. They didn't care for her problems, why show them she had some?_

Narcissa's was the most disappointing of all, Saphira thought. She had expected the woman to understand her problems. She knew what it meant to be a woman and how difficult it was to fulfil all those expectations. And at the same time she knew what it meant to be a man. She had raised her son, after all. She knew how he was walking, eating, talking and behaving. She must have realized there were huge differences between being a man and being a woman. Surely she would have known this and understood it.

But she didn't.

From the first day on, Narcissa insisted on treating her like a girl. There was nothing wrong with it. She was a girl now, after all. But somehow the Malfoy Matriarch must have forgotten that she wasn't born a girl. Every time Saphira slipped up and acted a little manly, Narcissa would scold her and scoff at her actions.

She wasn't interested in fashion and style, but loved to talk about Quidditch and playing, she liked wearing black, dark blue and other dark colours more than wearing white and bright colours, she preferred trousers and shirts over skirts and blouses. She got into a huge fit when Narcissa told her to wear more girly, figure hugging things, she hated using more makeup than absolutely necessary, she didn't understand the reason in painting your nails in different colours and painting small, floral designs on them and finally she didn't like to spend more than ten minutes making up her hair. It looked good open, with those huge waves. Why curl it up even more or force it into an expressive bun?

Nobody seemed to understand it, but no boy on earth would do such things. And that was what she was, a boy in a girl's body.

At least being a girl had some, minor advantages. She was allowed to read as much as she wanted. For some unknown reason Narcissa thought it acceptable for her to sit in the huge reading salon, a book in her hands and warm fire cracking behind her. She seemed to think it was something very "womanly" to do. Conversing over tea, strolling through the gardens, enjoying the landscape and having a closer look at portrays was acceptable as well.

But those things couldn't keep her occupied for a long time. With a heavy pressure on her heart and tears prickling in her eyes, Saphira remembered the day Narcissa had for the first time made her cry.

_She had complained in not a too subtle way that she was quite bored. She had been reading for the last few days, doing her chores for her lessons and preparing herself for the tests and exams of the next day. But even with all the books and knowledge offered, there was only so much she could take. So when she had taken care of everything, she had decided to have some fun and get some action._

_With this plan firmly in mind, Saphira had left the room and walked to the gardens. Not knowing where she was going, Saphira let her feet guide her way and her mind and eyes wander. It was such a nice day, the sun was shining, the sky was blue and some birds were chiming in the background. A small smile, one of the few honest ones, crept over her features. Finally, she would be able to be herself._

_Once her feet stopped, Saphira looked around and slightly nodded her head in approval. She was at the backside of the gardens. No flowers or trees were there, only grass and the walls of protecting the castle's ground. Behind the high, grey, stone walls, she could see huge, dark green trees protecting her and the castle from the outside's few. Smiling at herself, Saphira looked around. _

_It was perfect._

_With quick movements, Saphira grabbed her ever present wand, lovingly traced its wood and then waved it over her head. Lowly she muttered the foreign sound words. For mere moments, nothing happened. With her eyes closed, Saphira concentrated very hard, until a faint, whitish light appeared in front of her, the middle getting darker and darker, until finally, mere seconds later, a perfect broom was swaying in front of her._

_Her heart was fluttering with happiness and joy, as her fingers traced the long, cold wood lovingly. A content sigh escaped her lips and her eyes closed slightly in comfort. Yes, she finally would be able to be herself again. _

_She was just about to mount her conjured broom, when an angry shout from behind made her spin around in surprise. With huge eyes, unable to react in any way, Saphira couldn't rescue her broom as red lightning came flying towards it, its course never changing. With a loud, crashing sound the lightning connected with the wood, causing it to explode and small pieces to get blown away._

_Her heart was aching and pounding as her longing gaze was staring at the place where the broom had mere seconds before been. Now, only air and small pieces of burnt wood were all her eyes could see. With anger and confusion, Saphira lifted her head, ready to tell whoever dared to do this off, only to stop dead in her tracks._

_In front of her way standing Narcissa, her hair flying around wildly in the wind. Her wand still in her hand, the other firmly at her hip, Narcissa was staring down at her. She was panting heavily, her cheeks flushed and her posture uncontrolled. She was angry, Saphira could tell from the way her whole frame was shaking. And though she was angry, anger wasn't the right word to describe the look in her eyes. It was ice cold fury and brightly burning ire. She looked as so she wanted to slap her badly._

"_What do you think you're doing? Mounting a broom, getting all dirty and sweaty, with your hair sticking to your head and your body all stinky? Are you a mere boy, Saphira? Have you forgotten everything I told you about being a girl? You don't do this kind of things. It's a man's things to do. Come here now, get inside. I will have to talk with your father about it. I, like he, expected better from you. I'm disappointed, Saphira, very disappointed."_

This evening Narcissa had banished and destroyed all brooms in Slytherin Manor.

For the first few days, Saphira had gone into shock. Narcissa only meant well, she could tell by the way she was always sticking around her, trying to engage her in other, more girly things to do. But though she may mean well, her actions had caused Saphira to slip down a huge spiral, right into desperation and despair. Quidditch was all she got, everything she was. She didn't care much for anything else. She loved Quidditch, it was, what she was, what Harry had been. By banishing it, Narcissa had destroyed the last link to her former self once and for all.

And sadly, she didn't even know this.

After the shock had worn off and her loneliness and boredom got the better of her, Saphira experimented with all things available to pass her time. It was during one of her experiments that she finally found out there were some things that would keep her mind occupied and sane. Narcissa had given her a clarinet and a violin as a present after her transformation. And though Saphira hated the thought of taking anything that mean woman, who had banished brooms from the estate, had given her, her boredom finally got the better of her.

Playing the clarinet or the violin helped her keep her mind sane.

If it wasn't for music and light reading, she would have long ago lost her mind due to boredom and loneliness. But there was only so much music and books could help her. Harry had thought she might be able to live the life he wanted to live. He thought, people would accept her more easily and give her those freedoms he never had. He expected the Death Eaters to treat her properly. But most of all, Harry expected her to make new friends, friends of her age, people who would love and respect her for who she was.

The death of her former friends was heavy on her soul. She remembered Harry's struggle to accept and mourn Sirius' death. Nobody had been there for him, they all expected him to just accept it and live life on as if nothing had happened, as if his only true chance to live with family hadn't just been crushed. Being left alone was with such a horrible burden wasn't something Harry or she would be able to stomach. That was why she had hoped to make friends here quickly. So she would be able to cope and mourn their deaths with someone by her side, helping her through it. But the only person of her age so far had been Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry had hated his guts and frankly, Saphira could understand his reasoning quite well. Malfoy had done everything in his might to make Harry's life at Hogwarts, the only place he ever truly called home, a living hell. She had been very sceptical when her father had told her that Draco would be, as he called it, her "personal Death Eater". He was to make sure that she was safe and that she had everything she ever wished for. With a sadistic jolt, Saphira had realized that personal Death Eater was only a nicer description of personal servant.

She couldn't imagine Malfoy to take over this task too well. Surely the knowledge that Voldemort chose him out of all other, possible junior Death Eaters was a flattering one and would boost his already gigantic ego even more. But Saphira couldn't imagine Malfoy liked being treated nothing better than a mere common. He was about to make a huge fuss, but eventually he would accept his duty.

Saphira had therefore decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Everything inside of her screamed that this was a huge mistake, especially those parts still dominated by Harry's memories, but she felt it was what she needed to do. Her father expressed the explicit wish that they would be able to get on normally. And as much as she hated following orders, her father's ones were special. He was family, the one who allowed her to live. For him and his actions she would follow his orders, but only for him and only his.

But now, Saphira clearly wondered whether she had been wrong to do so. She had wanted to act friendly and open, give him the chance to accept that she was now a girl and his better at the same time. She wanted him to feel comfortable around her, so they might be able to build a new, good friendship. But all her friendliness got brought her, was his teasing and smirking face, his arrogant and self-important posture, the victorious glint in his eyes. He thought he had won some stupid competition.

By being a man.

Saphira snorted inwardly. Yes, leave it to Malfoy to boost his ego with the knowledge that he still had balls while she hadn't. It was so stupid, so infantile, so… Malfoy. It hurt her deeply that he couldn't understand her pain and sorrow at all. But what else could she expect. He was Malfoy, super arrogant and ignorant bastard of her life. Her father wanted her to befriend him and befriend him she would. But she would be damned if she let him see how much she was hurting and how deeply she needed someone to help her.

No, that he would never see. Even if it killed her.

"Why, Draco, everything is just absolutely marvellous."

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**A/N: **Hey guys! I know, it has been a long time since I last updated, but please believe me, I had a lot of things to do and even more on my mind. The reason why I updated so late...

Well, as always, I want to thank all of you who found the time and muse to leave a review or send me a comment and added this story to your alert and/or favourite story lists. I am so happy! I didn't expect this story to attrack so much attention. Thanks a lot. It means the world to me.

Now, I want to remind you that constructive criticism, ideas and wishes for the plotline, and suggestions on what to do better always very much loved. So, please, leave a review and make a poor author's day!


	11. Making Acquaintances

**Save by being his Daughter**

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: **Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his life forever.

**Genre: **Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, and then please don't read further.

**Beta-reader:** Thanks, franienzbabe, for your wonderful work you did on my story!

**Attention!** **Harry **will now be called **Saphira**! Just so you know and don't get confused.

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11. Making Acquaintances:

The smirk that greeted her wasn't a too friendly one.

"Well, that I can lively imagine. Daughter of the Dark Lord. They kiss the ground you walk on, don't they. It must feel great."

At first, Saphira unconsciously flinched. The way Malfoy had been talking, the words he had used and the way he had trailed at the end, it made her feel like he was seething with hate and anger. A sudden fear gripped her heart. Suddenly everything she had worked for, those wishes Harry had had for her, seemed far away. She wanted to make and have a new start, to get to know those people around her better, befriend them. With her father it had worked somewhat well. With the other Malfoys' and Snape she was getting on half way good. And Draco, well, she had hoped things would work out better. She didn't expect them to become best friends, but at least getting on okay would have been nice.

With a little bit of fear and more than a little bit of foreboding, Saphira took a deep breath and raised her head to meet Malfoy's gaze. But once their eyes met the sight that greeted her caused Saphira's breath to hitch. Instead of the anger and hatred, there was an acknowledging and understanding twinkle in his eyes, as he suddenly grinned teasingly. His posture was relaxed, as Malfoy leaned back and placed his hands behind his head. Startled Saphira realized he seemed to be pleased instead of angry.

"Very good, Saphira. I would have done the same in your position. You learn fast, Saphira. Very fast."

Saphira could do nothing more than blink.

It was so weird. Had Malfoy been a Gryffindor, Saphira would have sworn he was lying to make her feel better. But Malfoy wasn't a Gryffindor, no, far from it. He was a Slytherin to the core. Lying to make his conversation partner feel better was a no-go. Whatever he did, he did it because it would do him well or because he really found something worth praise and approval. With her eyes scanning his face and his movements, Saphira way shocked to see that Malfoy really did seem to mean it.

As she leaned back into her chair again, Saphira let her mind wander. Yes, it made sense if she kept thinking about the situation like a real Slytherin would. She knows was so much better in their eyes. Before her change, she had been a homeless, halfblooded orphan. Average in all school subjects, only really excelling in Quidditch and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Now, now things were different. Though she was now a girl and would never be able to carry her family name on, she was now better. She was a pureblood, had living family and now excelled in all subjects that she worked on.

Not to forget that she was now the daughter and only living heir of the most feared and dangerous wizard of their world.

With a bitter grim gracing her lips and a painfully throbbing heart, Saphira tried to look unfazed as she observed the still grinning and teasingly chuckling young man opposite of her. Malfoy might have reason with her now being something better in his and most others' eyes, but one thing he had gotten completely wrong. Never, never in all of his life, would he know what it felt like to be in Harry's position before his change, much less understand why he did it. No, that he would never understand.

"You know, it seemed to be the most reasonable thing to do."

Inwardly Saphira felt disgusted. Harry would twitch in his grave, if he could. Harry had always been such a loyal and true to the heart guy. Never would he have lied into someone else's face, nor had he ever tried to manipulate others into doing his bidding. And now, now here she was, lying right into Malfoy's face. And though they had never been friends before, Harry would have never stooped so low. But not only that, she was betraying her ideals, the things Harry had been fighting for. She was selfish and she was egoistical. She wasn't how Harry had wanted her to.

No, she felt dirty and disgusted.

"You know, you never tipped me as the slytherin-like type, Saphira. But with this father, I should have expected nothing less."

He was praising her, praising her for something Harry would have never stood for, never accepted it. He would have felt dirty and disgusted with himself. Something within stirred, she felt the sudden need to explain herself, to make him see reason. Her tongue tingled and she was about to open her mouth and talk, when her mind suddenly went blank. No, she wouldn't explain herself. Showing weakness wasn't something Harry or she did do lightly. She would never betray herself in such a blatant way as to show such a weakness.

She was just about to close her mouth and make a witty retort, when a small knock at her quarter's door echoed through her room and made her spin around. With a quick wave of her wand Saphira opened the door and let whoever wanted to speak to her enter. There was no need for her to fear someone might try and attack her. Besides her father and her teachers, no one of the Death Eaters even knew she existed. Whoever had been knocking at her door must have been one of those four people knowing her.

"Oh, Saphira, Draco, here you are. I have been searching everywhere for you. I just wanted to introduce you to each other. But as I see this won't be necessary. Here you are and you are already getting on well. Prefect, really perfect."

It took all of Saphira's willpower to keep up her nice, but vain smile. All inside of her screamed to roll her eyes or huff in annoyance. Who was this woman to even suggest Draco and she were getting on nicely. They might be everything but not in the slightest were they even starting to become friends. And even though she so wanted to show her displeasure, she didn't move a single muscle. Narcissa had been most cruel and her punishments most severe in everything concerning female acting. Scolding, rolling her eyes, snorting and many more things shouldn't be done in her presence unless one wanted to know her creativity for punishments.

With her friendly smile still in place, Saphira motioned for Narcissa to come in further.

"Here we are. Why were you searching for us, anyway?"

If it was even possible, Narcissa already brightly smiling face lit up even more. With the enthusiasm of a small child, Narcissa clapped her hands together. She only would have to wear a pink dress, have her long blond hair in pigtails and jump up and down to be the perfect little five year old. The very thought send a small and sincere smile to Saphira's lips. But it only lasted as long as Narcissa motioned for Draco and her to stand up and follow her. More than a little wearily, Saphira glanced a quick gaze to Draco before she slowly stood up.

"Oh, no need to worry dear. Your father sent me to fetch you two. He now thinks it's time for you to meet the rest of the Death Eaters and for him to introduce you as his heiress."

Despite her knowledge that this was about to happen soon, Saphira couldn't prevent the gulp. Being presented to the other Death Eaters, it was the one thought that had scared her the most. It wasn't that those people were cold blooded mass murderers, rapists and torturers, some of them more than remotely insane what scared her. Those people had always been Harry's enemies. He hadn't cared much for their feelings, nor had he ever wished to spend more time in their presence than absolutely necessary. He didn't know them as individuals; only saw them as who they were in battle.

And that was what scared her the most.

Now this mass of dark and dangerous people, those who Harry had never cared for to see as an individual person with needs, beliefs, wishes, hopes and fears were now going to be introduced to her. Her father, the one they worshiped as their master, wanted her to see them as something akin to a large and open family. Harry would have been mortified. But this was how things were supposed to be. At first she had tried with all her might to stop the familiarizing process, but the more time she spend with Snape and the two adult Malfoys', the more she came to acknowledge and respect them.

And this was what was going to happen once this special meeting was over. She would suddenly see those cold blooded murderers as individuals, people with needs, what drove them, what they feared the most, what they wished for the future and their loved ones and finally, what it was that motivated them to follow her father. Things would become clearer between them and hate and anger wouldn't be so easy to project upon them. She would warm up to them and with time she would even befriend them.

Well, most certainly not all of them.

With a badly suppressed sigh, Saphira straightened up and brushed her clothes. A last, longing gaze was cast to the door that led to her sanctuary, the one perfectly designed room that held her bed and her favourite books. The light was dimmed, the bed would be warmed and a plate with cookies would be there, waiting for her to come and relax. But this wasn't what her evening had in plan for her. She was to leave her rooms and confront a mass of people who only mere weeks ago had sworn to kill her former self. No, her evening would be everything but relaxing.

"Well then, let's go. There's no need to leave my father waiting."

Mere minutes later Saphira found herself standing in front of the one door she had been told to avoid until further notice. The dark wooded, heavily decorated door was nearly completely dimming out any noise from the other side of the room. Nearly all, but not everything. With a little effort, Saphira could hear her father talking and while he kept silent, someone else was talking, maybe giving a report to him. With a start Saphira realized her father must be in an excellent mood, as for the last few minutes nobody was screaming or getting tortured.

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see Narcissa and Draco looking intently at her. All the way to the salon and throne room, the two Malfoys' had kept strangely quiet. Their eyes were resting on her back, as if they were trying to figure out a mystery, whatever this mystery was. Especially Draco was looking at her with such intense fire burning in his eyes, it made her shudder and wish he was somewhere else. She was already nervous enough as she was, her heart beating loudly and erratically, waves of heat followed by waves of utter coldness washing over her body, as her eyes nervously started to dart around the room and her hands started to sweat. She really didn't need him to increase her worry and uneasiness.

Suddenly the room on the other side of the door became eerily quiet. The time had come, her father was about to present her to his followers. Next to her she could feel more than see the two Malfoy accompanying her straighten up and brush their cloaks. Saphira was standing in the middle, her eyes fixed onto the door, waiting for what was to come. Frantically she tried to calm down her nerves and ease her breathing but it didn't help much. She was about to ask herself what was keeping her father up, as seconds later, the door now magically opened and indicated for them to enter. A last deep breath, a heartfelt prayer to whoever god was listening and Saphira stepped into the dim room, facing her new "family".

The room was nearly completely dark. Huge windows were showing the dark shadows of tall, dark green trees surrounding the castle; a dark purple carpet was leading the way of the grey stone floor to the gigantic, impressive throne standing in the middle of the room. There were several, antique portraits, armours and weapons that were placed all around the room, but Saphira took no notice of this. With her head held high and no emotions displaying on her face, Saphira walked further into the room. Slowly, with Draco and Narcissa trailing behind her, the young Slytherin heiress walked to her father.

Her posture was of a proud and strong woman and her head was still held high. She wasn't bowing or kneeling, as her father had told her more than directly that this would be unbecoming of her status, her eyes were dutifully cast to the floor and her hands neatly folded in front of her. Harry would have cringed and Saphira would have too, hadn't Narcissa been standing directly behind her and fear her punishment for displaying such inappropriate actions. But as much as her father had told her it was important she displayed her superiority to the Death Eaters, it was just as important she showed her loyalty to him.

"This, faithful and loyal followers, is the main reason I called for you this evening."

Voldemort, his black robes perfectly in place, approached his daughter. His red eyes skimmed the several rows of black clad and silvery masked followers, who formed several half circles around him. Surprised, Saphira noticed how his voice was strangely possessive and caring, how his hand rested longer than necessary on her back and how he literally seemed to skin those few alive with his stern and hard glare, who dared to look at her with more than a little interest.

"I know you wish to think that you know everything or at least a lot about me. But honestly, you really don't believe this, do you? I can't afford it if someone spills me secrets to the enemy. So, to make it clear. What you now get to know will stay inside this room. No one will ever talk to someone else about this matter. Should word reach the outside of this castle, I can guarantee to you those who are responsible for this, will die a most cruel and horrendous death."

No emotion passed his followers' eyes as he spoke his last sentence with a voice full of cold sureness and earnest. Low mumbles of agreement and acceptance echoed through the room, as several Death Eaters nodded their heads. It was all that Voldemort needed. Saphira knew that his followers would make an unbreakable vow if needed to prove their loyalty. Because if someone dared to talk, her father would search as long as needed until he found out who was the traitor. And though it may be enough for her father, Saphira was more than a little concerned, as her stomach clenched and her heartbeat quickened.

"This, my loyal followers, is my daughter Saphira Slytherin."

He couldn't have dropped a bigger bomb. Several loud gasps and intakes of breath echoed through the otherwise completely quiet room. And even though only the eyes were visible through the mask, they showed enough to clearly decipher the signs of shock and utter disbelief. They were wide open, unmoving staring at the four people in front of them, some blinking desperately as if they wished to clear what had been told away. The scene was so surreal; Saphira literally thought she might break. Suddenly she had the irrevocable need to laugh out loud due to all the pressure and insecurities bubbling inside of her.

"She turned seventeen several weeks ago. Who her mother is and where she is, is of no concern to you and shall never be mentioned. As my only heiress, Saphira will be my second in command and will help me with everything concerning the war and politics. You will address her properly as my Lady, you will do as she commands, will help her should she need it and most importantly, you will bestow her with the same respect and loyalty as you do to me. Should I find out someone is going against my word, knowing or unknowingly, this person will wish to never have been born."

Again there was muttered agreement and acceptance as the dutifully nodding heads. What else would they be able to do? Disagree? Ask further questions? Those would be serious death wishes and all of them knew this. They could do nothing more than accept her existence and her new position.

While Saphira was standing there and watching the Death Eaters' acting around her, she found herself a nervous wreck. She couldn't explain why, but the feeling of being nice with Harry's former enemies just left her feeling betrayed. That Draco Malfoy was standing right behind, all the time unceremoniously staring at her didn't help her in the slightest. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out what he was thinking of her. Did he respect her, as he showed just before Narcissa arrived? Did he still see her as Harry, as his first reaction had been? Did he think he was superior, inferior to her? Was he disgusted by her or did he feel humoured at her expense? She didn't know and this was driving her crazy. But what was even worse was that she didn't even know why she cared for what he was thinking at all.

Heaving a small sigh, Saphira turned around to look at her father questioningly. She didn't know what he had planned to happen now. Not that she was too interested in what they were doing here anyways; her father had been gravely exaggerating when he told his followers that she would be helping him. As she recalled quite well, this one thing had been a fix aspect of the deal they had made. He would keep her out of the war and safe and she would agree to become the daughter he had wished for. And yet he had to tell them something different. His followers wouldn't understand it if he just told them she didn't want to know anything going on in the war. No, it would have raised suspicions and therefore they had changed the plan.

Her father immediately caught her movement out of the corner of his eyes. With a soft look only reserved for her, Voldemort turned around and opened his mouth, when -

"CRUCIO!"

The loud, hateful screech made them all spun around in panic. There, standing right inside the rows of black clad Death Eaters was standing one person, figure and face hidden behind the robes and the mask, its wand held high and pointed directly at Saphira. A lightning of the purest, but most aggressive red was shooting towards her. It all happened so fast, she wasn't able to react in any way. Just with horrific wide open eyes was staring at the red lightning, waiting for the excruciating pain to claim her.

Only it never came.

Just before it was about to hit her straight into her chest, a barrier suddenly appeared around her. The red lightning gave an angrily hissing sound as it hit the sudden obstacle, gleamed a last time forebodingly, before it then vanished into thin air as if it had never been there before.

"BELLATRIX!"

As soon as the red lightning had shot out of the Death Eater's wand, Voldemort had spun around. His red eyes widened in surprise and disbelief as he quickly scanned the situation. Mere moments ago had he told his followers to keep his daughter safe and to treat her like they would treat him. And even as he had threatened them with the cruellest punishment they could imagine, seconds' later one of them was stupid enough to go against his order and try to curse one of the few people important to him.

"Nott, Dolohov, grab her and bring her forward now."

Out of the rows of Death Eaters two black clad figures stepped forward and harshly garbed another person, smaller and more fragile in its stature, by its arms and dragged it forward. They didn't care that the woman was obviously having problems with following them, as she continuously stumbled over her feet and one time nearly fell. As soon as the three reached the mentioned place in the middle, the two men pushed the smaller woman harshly to the floor, effortlessly making her kneel in the process. Her mask slipped slightly, as her chest heaved raggedly and her thin fingers started to shake. Her pale greyish eyes darted around the room restlessly, until they came to a halt at her father's figure.

"M-my Lord, t-this woman is a f-fraud. You c-can't possibly m-mean, she r-really is y-your-"

For a brief moment her father's eyes were burning with such an intense fire, Saphira feared for the worst.

"Be quiet, Bellatrix! I am very disappointed in you. My command was clear and yet you failed it mere seconds later. I tell you to look at her. If you are honest to yourself, you will clearly see any resemblance she shares with me. This young woman, dear Bellatrix, is my daughter Saphira, heir to my throne and right hand in everything I do. Respect her and show her the devotion she earns, or I will have your head. Literally."

With the last word hissed venomously, Voldemort turned around and looked at his daughter intently. The angry, hateful red shimmer slowly faded from his eyes, as he took a closer look at his only heir.

He couldn't fathom why, but somehow the little incident had her left more shaken up than he would have expected. Her already pale skin had lost several shades of its earlier colour, her lips were lightly trembling and her bight, sky blue eyes had lost most of their brightness. She looked as if she had gone into shock and was about to faint any second. And though Voldemort clearly hated every single sign of weakness, seeing his daughter in her current state made his cold heart ache.

A quiet sigh left his lips, as he thought about how he could make it possible for his daughter to leave the room, without damaging his or her reputation. It was difficult. Hell, why did Bellatrix always had to screw up things the most.

"I will explain myself for the last time now. Saphira is my daughter. I kept her hidden and her existence a secret so she would be safe. Now, as we have finally taken the last step to fulfil our long awaited plans, I saw it fit for her to return and take the place she rightfully owns. This I have already explained mere moments ago. I just wanted to repeat it, so you might understand it finally and don't do something stupid again."

His blazing red eyes found their way to the woman still kneeling in front of him. Her greyish eyes widened unconsciously in fear as she desperately tried to prevent to gulp. Voldemort fought hard against the urge to sigh or to roll his eyes. Everything was a mess and he had to sort it out.

"Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy as well as Severus Snape are her personal teachers and instructors. They are not to be disturbed with unimportant business as their main task is to provide my daughter with every kind of knowledge and skill she might need. They will defend her at all cost. So don't go sneaking around. They might very well kill you. And I will do nothing to reprimand them."

Voldemort paused and looked around the room. He could see his Death Eaters staring at him with wide, still surprised eyes, their heads lightly bowed to show their submission and their stance perfectly still and tense, as if they were expecting him to throw a deeply and dangerous curse at them any moment. Good, he thought, at least they are finally learning.

As his eyes travelled back to where his daughter was standing, at least half way composed now, he came across the three people he had just mentioned. Narcissa and Lucius, both in their black cloaks, were standing slightly behind her, heads held high and their posture proud. None of them was wearing their masks, as Saphira had complained about not knowing who she was talking to when they wore them. And as her instructors and teachers even Voldemort could understand that she wanted to be able to identify them should she ever need them. That was why he had ordered them to only wear them during raids.

He could only badly suppress the urge to roll his eyes as his gaze lingered for a moment on their faces. It was clear to all of them that both Malfoys tried very hard to appear unaffected and cool, but honestly failed on the whole line. Their eyes were shining brightly, a self-important, self-assured look in them. If he had more time, Voldemort would have tried to find out whether a bit of greed had mixed itself between those other emotions. In the Malfoy family it was all about influence and importance. It was what this family was living for. And being the Dark Lord's daughter's personal instructors was much more than others could wish for. It really must be giving them a thrill.

Trying in vain not to roll his eyes at the foolishness of his followers' need, Voldemort turned around and regarded the third person he had been mentioning. Severus' face, as always, showed… nothing. No one was able to tell, whether he was pleased, honoured, angry or stressed by being one of those few people whom Voldemort entrusted the safety and education of his daughter to.

His ever present scowl was neatly in place, his black hair was falling into his emotionless but stern eyes, his posture was straightened and his shoulders drawn back and tense. No traces of a smile or smirk fought their ways over his features; no satisfied glint in his eyes could be seen. He looked as if he wasn't fathomed at all. And though Voldemort knew that Severus did indeed feel honoured to be selected - as he had expressed his pride before him - he was happy to see that at least one of his followers knew what dignity meant and didn't need to only boost his ego.

He would have to see to Severus being in charge of Saphira's conduct and official meeting lessons. Severus was, after all, showing a lot more potential than Narcissa.

Slowly he walked forward, until he stood directly in front of the quivering Bellatrix. Her eyes were submissively cast to the floor, her hands and arms shaking, as she tried to keep perfectly still, so she wouldn't enrage her master any further.

As he just stood there, in front of her, so near she could touch him if she wanted, well, more like dared to, just standing there doing… nothing, it was the purest torture for Bellatrix. She wanted him to move, to yell at her, to curse her, hell, even kill her was better than the silent treatment. And though she didn't want to, she slowly started to fidget.

Voldemort, who had been waiting for exactly this to happen, for her to lose her cool and start to worry, let a satisfied but absolutely evil smirk play across his lips. It sent shivers of fear and horror through the stances of his waiting followers, causing Bellatrix to look up to him in dread and fear.

"Now, Bellatrix, as you have heard for the last time, my daughter is to be kept safe and left in peace, otherwise there will be dear consequences. And though I clearly wish I hadn't to, I have to make an example or otherwise people would accuse me of just saying and doing nothing."

He paused and raised his eyes to the ceiling. His head was titled, one of his hands resting at his chin and his unfocused as he demonstrated the perfect symbol of mock consideration. It was evident he enjoyed himself, but no one, who really valued his life, would ever dare to tell it him.

Not even Saphira would and she got away with most of what she did.

"But for today I can't be bothered to decide your punishment. I accomplished what I aimed for. For your punishment, I will need time to decide what the perfect thing to do would be. What you did is a major fault and, additionally, I criminalized it mere moments before. It pains me, but it has to be done."

And paining it was, Saphira realized with a start. Her father's stance was more tense, his shoulders stiffly drawn back to a point it had to be hurting. His red eyes, normally burning with an intense fire, were now dull and lifeless. It was a scaring sight and though Saphira knew that no one beside her had noticed this, the sight caused her heart to become cold.

She would have to speak with him about it later. He really seemed to be more hurt by Bellatrix' actions than normally…

Sharply, Voldemort sucked in his breath and straightened up further. With his emotions back again in check and firmly placed away. His cold and stern eyes swept over his shivering and trembling followers, a sight that made his heart speed up with joy. Letting the sly smirk play across his lips, Voldemort made a dismissive movement with his hand.

"Now, that all things are clear, you can go. This meeting is closed. Keep my words in mind, it will only help you. Dismissed."

Without another word, Voldemort turned around and stalked to the door on the other side of the room. As he passed his daughter, she, too, turned around and followed him. They didn't turn around as they left the throne hall, followed by Saphira's three personal teachers. They didn't turn around as the rest of the Death Eaters prepared themselves and then vanished away.

Had they bothered to look back, even just for mere seconds, they would have been able to prevent those horrible happenings in the future.

A pair of ice blue eyes, surrounded by thickly black painted eyelashes, a long, black mascara line around them and dark eye shadow was glaring daggers at the retreating backs. Hate and fury, mixed with a great deal of hurt and fear were swimming through the blue pools. But as soon as they had appeared there, they were gone. A self-assured, sardonic glint flashed through her eyes and though only them were visible, it would have been clear to all of them that she was grinning cruelly.

Hell would break loose and nobody would be able to stop it. This would be made sure off.

Next to them a pair of brown eyes wandered appraisingly over the smallest of the retreating backs. Praise, soon becoming adoration and even more. In a matter of seconds, the innocent emotions became something different. Something sneaked its way between them, something foreign, something _dark._ Adoration changed and became hunger and even lust.

With a content hum a smile reached the eyes.

As if on cue, the two persons prepared and vanished leaving no traces of their thoughts and plans for the future behind.

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**A/N: **I know it has been quite a while since I last updated. That is why I opened a poll. I don't have the time nor the inspiration to finish all of my stories. Now I want to know which story interests my readers most, so I can focus on this one. Please, if you wish for one of the stories to be completed, visit my profile and chose one of the stories. It would help me a lot. Thanks!


	12. Setting Priorities

**Author:** FelesMagica

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter or any of these characters (these belong to J. K. Rowling), nor the idea of Harry being the heir of Voldemort or Harry becoming a girl. I don't know who owns them, to say I'm sorry for borrowing them. If I would know, I would ask. However, I **do** own my plot.

**Summary: ** Harry has been feeling ill for quite some time. When Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts, Harry is too weak to defend himself and gets kidnapped by the Death Eaters. He wakes up in the same room as Snape, who tells him something that will change his live forever.

**Genre: ** Romance / Drama

**Warnings:** This story may contain some swearing. Furthermore, it contains intelligent, independent Harry, not so nice Dumbledore, several dead characters, friendlier but not nice Death Eaters and Voldemort, a gender change and some minor bashings. Don't like it, then please don't read further.

* * *

**12. Setting Priorities**

A low sigh echoed through the silent room, only being reflected by the tall walls.

Saphira sat in one of her armchairs, her feet neatly placed under her body, a thick blanket sneaked around her body and a mug of steaming hot coffee in her hands. Carefully she blew into the mug, waited until the hot damp met her face and then took a small sip.

An appreciative smile crept over her shoulders and with a content sigh, Saphira leaned back into her armchair. After all the trouble she had been through yesterday, she had earned herself a nice day off, starting with a relaxed breakfast tea.

After they had left the room, her father had turned around and sent the very surprised and a little hurt Malfoy parents away. Next to her, Malfoy had looked at her with incredulity and obvious surprise. But even though she felt the same, Saphira had just uncaringly shrugged and quietly followed her father to her rooms.

Without a back-glance and still wordlessly, her father had opened the doors to her quarters and let himself and his three companions in. Saphira took the lead and let herself sink down in one of her armchairs, Draco doing the same as the adults remained standing. On Severus' face, she could detect the smallest sign of curiosity, but frankly, he hid them well.

A long time, nothing happened. Voldemort just stood there, his head directed to one of the windows, his arms crossed over his chest and his mind deep in thought. It left the other three occupants of the room in utmost discomfort and uneasiness. It wasn't a normal thing for the Dark Lord to just space out and be lost to the world. Whatever it was that was troubling him, it sure would hold great influence on all of them.

With a sigh, Voldemort turned around, his stern eyes resting on Draco alone, causing the young man to gulp in fear.

"What happened today is to never happen again. Saphira has to be kept save at all costs. She is too precious to fall victim to some assassination attempt. If it would be possible, I would try to take this task myself. Sadly this won't be possible."

Saphira couldn't help but scoff. Of course, leave it to her father to become so freaked out due to this small little incident. The way he spoke about it one could mean she had nearly died or would have been left very badly incapacitated. Honestly, she was grown up, an adult. She really could take care of herself.

Not that anybody believed this anyways.

"During her lessons and some official meetings which Saphira will attend, your parents and your godfather will keep an eye on her and will make sure that she is save. Sadly, they won't be able to do this all the time. During their work schedules and while they fulfill their tasks for me, Saphira will be unprotected."

A very bad feeling of foreboding suddenly crushed over Saphira and caused her to groan inwardly. By the gods, hopefully her father wouldn't do this. It was bad enough that he had to tell his followers that she had three bodyguards to keep her safe, Nagini lurking in the shadows and waiting for the right time to strike and not to forget himself. Please, by the gods, it was enough!

"Therefore I decided to give her a personal bodyguard."

His daughter's pained groan went unnoticed by the rest of the occupants.

"You will keep her safe, Draco."

Hadn't Draco Malfoy been so scared, he surely would have gaped. But he didn't.

'Good boy,' Saphira though sarcastically. 'You surely value your life a lot.'

This way all he could do was stare at his Master with wide open, shocked eyes and gulp fearfully. Whatever the Malfoy heir seemed to have expected, this hadn't been it.

Next to him, Saphira's gaze soured. Great, really great. Now she didn't only have endure the two adult Malfoys and Snape, the ever present but never be seen Nagini and her overprotective father. No, now she had to bear the presence of the annoying Malfoy heir, too.

Saphira couldn't help the sigh that left her lips. Well, from there on the evening had become hell. Her father sadly couldn't help it. He not only shocked the living daylights out of Malfoy heir, but told him in no blunt words what he had to do. Should Saphira leave her personal quarters, Draco was to accompany her. Should something happen to her on the way, Draco's head would be rolling.

Poor, little Draco.

Life sucks.

* * *

Hours later, Saphira sat in the darkness of her room, not moving and making no sound.

Gazing at the forest longingly, she sat on the windowsill, her legs drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped firmly around them, her chin resting on her knees. Directly in front of her window was the Quidditch pitch, the perfect, wide law on the side of the pitch surrounded by large trees, forming a direct protection against wind and curious stares.

Her heart ached painfully at seeing the pitch. The pitch was were Harry had lived. Well, maybe not his body, but his heart lived there. Harry lived for and thanks to Quidditch. The wind in his hair, the rush of excitement in his veins, the strongly pounding heartbeat, his hands on the broomstick, flying around in a breakneck speed.

It was during those rare moments that Harry had felt truly and absolutely happy.

When had been the last time she had been happy like that? As Harry, she could easily pinpoint it. It was during her sixth year, while Dumbledore was still alive, the threat of approaching war, death and destruction looming, but still far away enough to be sometimes forgotten. It was during his flights on his broom, together with his friends or alone that Harry had last been truly happy.

But as Saphira? Had she been happy since she came into life? Saphira guessed that even after long pondering she would have to negate this question. She was fine, well, not exactly. She was thankful for getting a new chance to live. Saying she got a new chance to live _her_ life would have been pure exaggeration, seeing as she wasn't allowed at all to do what she wanted. But, she figured, living a life was a lot better than living no life. Therefore she was grateful.

Besides than being grateful, Saphira had the feeling she wasn't much more. There was no excitement, no happiness, no overwhelming, mind-consuming feelings. She was just there, living each day as she was supposed to do. There was no breaking free from this daily routine, this much Narcissa and her father had made sure of. There would be no breaking free, no chance to explore and develop her character.

Sometimes she wished she was still Harry. At least he had had moments of happiness.

Was it even sane to picture yourself as two different people? Harry and Saphira? Probably not, Saphira guessed. But what was she supposed to do? Harry's memories, his life, his thoughts and feelings were still present in the back of her mind. She couldn't forget them even if she wanted to. Not that she did, no. Her memories were all she had at the moment. Loosing them would be the final push.

Saphira knew that her father just like Narcissa wanted her to forget Harry, to loose herself in her new identity, to forget who she had been once. It was understandable from their point of view.

They wanted to make sure she was fine, sparing her moral conflicts and the obviously insanity that was lurking in the shadows of her mind. They must have known the possible consequences: creating a new identity always left people prone to psychological problems. To create a whole new body, gender and parentage included, would only be worse.

And though she knew that both only meant well, Saphira couldn't help herself and scoff at their logic. The hell she would do and loose her last connection to her former self. It was bad enough what she was currently doing, obeying to the Dark Lord's wishes, learning dark magic and etiquette, loosing every bit of her once self-assured and independent character.

With each day passing, she turned more and more in the perfect pureblood daughter and there was nothing she could do against it.

Feeling anger bubble in her chest, Saphira remembered that she didn't even know for sure, who she really was. She knew her former parents' genes weren't there anymore. A part had been substituted by the Dark Lord.

However, not even the Dark Lord was powerful enough to create life with just a set of chromosomes. No, there had to be another set. However, until today her father hadn't cared for her to know who her mother was.

That wouldn't do.

She would find out soon, Saphira told herself. But not tonight. She was too tired and too exhausted after today's events. Having to face the Death Eaters, being introduced as the Dark Princess, being attacked by Bellatrix the vile person and having Draco bloody Malfoy be assigned as her bodyguard was just too much. Her mind ached for normalcy and quietness, while her body longed for sleep and relaxation.

Perhaps, if she just sat here a little longer, watching the wind blow through the trees, she would finally become tired enough to sleep fitfully once again.

* * *

"Oh, for the love of… please, try at least to remember what I told you.", Narcissa's exasperated voice echoed through the room.

It was early in the morning, just after breakfast. The sun was yet to shine with its whole force and the clouds covering the icy grey sky were hindering what few streams of light could enter through the windows. Fall was approaching with fast steps and soon the once bright and lively green leaves would turn yellow, orange and red. It would be a sight to behold.

However, currently Saphira had other, more pressing things on her mind.

With an aggravated sigh that rivalled Narcissa's exasperation, Saphira closed her eyes and pinched her nose. She was moments from hexing something, or better, someone. Ever since she had had classes with her supposed to be teachers, tension, anger and outright fury had grown in her chest. At the moment she felt drawn bow: a little more pressure and she would brake.

Exhaling with forced calmness, Saphira opened her eyes and stared at Narcissa resolutely.

The Lady Malfoy wore an elegant dress, one a Lady would normally wear to a formal ball or an official gathering. The light blue, nearly silvery dress emphasized her great figure perfectly. The strapless, heart shaped corsage showed off her great bust size. From her hips downwards, the long skirt fell down to the floor in several layers of different length. Her blond hair was done in an elaborate updo. She really looked like a noblewoman.

For a stranger, her appearance would have looked overdressed. However, Narcissa wasn't the only one present to look regal.

Saphira was clad in a deep purple dress. Like Narcissa, she wore an heart shaped corsage, two straps reaching behind her neck were they were tied into an elegant bow. From her hips downwards, the dress fell in wide layers of different lengths. The corsage just like the wide skirt were embroidered with small, white rhinestones. Her black hair was done in an elegant topknot letting her hair fall down to her hips in strong, lively curls.

Unlike Narcissa, however, Saphira wore an hip-long, deep purple nearly black cape without sleeves and a stand-up collar. Right over her breasts, the cape was held together by a brooch. Another different was easily visible: while Narcissa's dress ended just above the floor, Saphira's had a long train.

Crossing her arms over her chest in an angry manner, Saphira raised her chin in defiance and all but glared at the Malfoy Mistress.

„I do pay attention to your words, Mrs. Malfoy. To every single one!"

Narcissa only raised an eyebrow in question, before she shook her head slowly in dismay. "If that is what you call paying attention, than we still have a lot of work before us."

Colour rose to Saphira's cheeks and suddenly she felt extremely warm. And though she wanted nothing more than slap the offending woman senseless, Saphira bowed her head and grit her teeth. It wouldn't help her should she manhandle Narcissa Malfoy without real reason.

Well, for her having to bow to Mrs. Malfoy's every wish and order. There was nothing more offending than having to act like a snobbish and stuck up pureblood witch.

Harry would cry in dismay at what she had to do.

And though she felt like being stabbed and the knife in her chest twisted around in a horrible cruel and painful way, she knew for sure that neither Narcissa nor her father would understand her reason for attacking the woman. No, how could they?

Bringing her hand to her forehead, Narcissa shook her head in dismay. "It's not as if I asked for the impossible. I only want you to dance. Dance, Saphira! To let your partner lead you, guide you around the room. That is all I ask from you."

Saphira could hear the superiority and the incomprehension in Narcissa's voice, causing the ire in her to rise to dangerous levels. Who was this woman to judge her?

It wasn't as if Saphira had learned to dance from the cradle. No, Harry had spent the first fourteen years of his life without having ever set a foot in a dance floor. And even after his fourteenth year, Harry's dancing experience had been limited. He hadn't had more than ten dance lessons in total and only ever attended a single ball. How was he to learn and know to dance?

And, well, Saphira was a totally different matter.

Rising and squaring her chin, Saphira glared daggers at Narcissa. "Maybe you find it natural to dance. But I don't! I can't walk in high heels, much less dance in them. The dress in uncomfortable and causing me trouble to breath and thanks to the train it's impossible to dance in it. How can I dance, when every time I move I step down on it? Is it really impossible for you to explain it to me in an easy manner? I may now be a woman. But I wasn't born one! Can't you remember that?"

Saphira pinched the brink of her nose and forced herself to exhale through her nose. Her ire was burning brightly and her control over her nerves – normally fragile at best – was slowly but surely slipping. If she didn't take care, then she would attack Narcissa Malfoy bodily, her son and the consequences be damned.

She was the Dark Lord's daughter and though no genius, she wasn't stupid enough to believe her father would allow her to randomly attack and harm his followers.

Suddenly Saphira felt incredibly tired. What was she doing here? She was learning to dance. But why? What had happened to her life? She once was a lively, joyful young man, startling innocent and ingenuous to the way the wizarding world worked. Harry hadn't had any special talent – true, he was good at Quidditch and seemed to excel in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but aside from that he had been normal, refreshingly normal. He worried about homework and how to approach a girl, what would be there for lunch and dinner and what to do during the summer break.

Now Saphira constantly had to worry about how to dress, what to wear, how to stand, walk, move. When to be quiet, when to talk and how to keep a conversation going. She was spending more time taking care of her body, keeping it 'beautiful', on a daily basis than Harry had during a whole week.

What was she doing? What had become of her life?

She had thought she could do this, had thought she could arrange herself with what was demanded of her as heiress of Slytherin. It had sounded so easy back then. Be a girl – how difficult could that be?

But honestly, who was she kidding.

Saphira hung her head; she could already feel the tears prickling her eyes. She was so frustrated, so worn out. Narcissa may believe her instructions clear and easy, but Saphira struggled immensely with connecting the Malfoy Mistress' orders and the movement and coordination of her limbs. She needed time and practice, Saphira knew that for sure. It wasn't as if she was too dumb to follow the instructions. But Narcissa was granting her neither. She seemed hell-bent on teaching her what there was to know about dancing in as little time as possible.

Straightening her shoulders, Saphira gazed at Narcissa flatly. "I quit today's lesson. I have had enough."

She could hear the Malfoy Mistress' distress and affronted spluttering, but Saphira couldn't care less. For the last handful of hours she had been degraded, insulted and abused. Her feet hurt, as did her legs and shoulders, she was tired, worn out and hungry. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't learn anything anymore in this state.

Letting the door fall shut with a resounding bang, Saphira headed towards her chambers. Dressing into something comfortable and then falling face first into her soft, amazing bed was sound more and more pleasant.

Tomorrow she would talk to her father and try to explain herself. She would probably have to sooth ruffled feathers and appease Narcissa by acting overly sweet and girl. But it would be worth it. Now she only wanted to be alone.


End file.
